


I See Sunset in Your Eyes (I Hate This Part Right Here)

by lostandlonelybirds (RUNNFROMTHEAK)



Series: Earth 69 - Strayverse [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Catwoman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: (1) Bruce Wayne was harmed in the makings of this fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempt at Humor, BAMF Dick Grayson, BDSM jokes, Birdflash is not going to be something I write again, Bruce Wayne is So Done, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne's aggressive need to be Dick's father, Butterfly Effect, Crack and Angst, Creepy Roman Sionis, Dick Grayson is Bad at Feelings, Dick Grayson is Catlad | Stray, Dick Grayson is Not Adopted, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Dick Grayson is a switch, Dick Grayson is sassy, Dick Grayson's Heroicness conflicting with his need for shiny, Dick Grayson-centric, Dubious Morality, Endgame JayDick, Enjoy it while you can fuckers, F/F, F/M, Flirty Dick Grayson, Good Parent Selina Kyle, Gotham Vixens, He can eat a dick (but not Dick dick), Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Have a Good Relationship, Jason Todd is Cardinal, Jason Todd is So Done, Jealous Dick Grayson, Jealous Jason Todd, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pole Dancing, Romani Dick Grayson, Same goes for RoyDick, Scroll a bit and you miss it reference to Roy Harper's drug struggle, Seductive Dick Grayson, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Slut Shaming, So many BDSM jokes, Stray is a supportive friend, Stray wears black lipstick and heels and it’s important to me that you know that, Team as Family, This is Earth-69, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, aka Dick's villain team, also Sionis??? Is a fucking creep, and it's important to me that we acknowledge his issues, and trauma, but it’s Dick slut shaming himself, change my mind, emotionally, kind of case fic, who also happens to be mildly murderous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:13:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23456077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RUNNFROMTHEAK/pseuds/lostandlonelybirds
Summary: “Tell you what, Robin. I’ll help you with your case, but you gotta come with me now. You in?”He frowns. He doesn’t know if he should trust her or if he can trust her. She’s a criminal, he knows that much, but what choice does he have? Being thrown back into an orphanage under closer surveillance? Dealing with the cops, and potentially Batman, when neither believes him?He sighs. It’s no choice at all.“I’m in,” he responds, and Catwoman grins, crouching down low.“Hop on, little bird, and hold on tight.”*Batman doesn't trust the word of an eight-year-old boy who lost his parents, and Gotham City gains a Stray instead of a Bird.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Donna Troy, Dick Grayson & Harleen Quinzel, Dick Grayson & Pamela Isley, Dick Grayson & Roy Harper, Dick Grayson & Selina Kyle, Dick Grayson & Wally West, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Implied (to Dick Grayson) Jason Todd/Koriand'r, Past Dick Grayson/Roy Harper - Relationship, Past Donna Troy/Roy Harper, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Temporary Dick Grayson/Komand'r, Temporary Dick Grayson/Wally West, past Dick Grayson/Catalina Flores
Series: Earth 69 - Strayverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687450
Comments: 128
Kudos: 346





	1. ass fat lips real (bitch i'm a big deal)

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. This has been a long time coming, and there's so many things I want to say.
> 
> First, this fic is betaed by the wonderful and fabulous dbakeiro, but there may still be some typos cause I'm an idiot who edits non stop. Best beta ever!!! Listens to my non-stop ideas and helps me plot and dialogue so much!!!! Love you <3
> 
> Second, this fic has art!!! Beautiful art!!! Right now it won't let me post it in the story, so I'm going to just link it and fix it later! The art is done by the super talented, super funny artist/tumblr nightwingvixen23, who I am honored to call my friend. She's always there for a quick hype message or a long rant!!! You're the best girly!!!
> 
> Link: [STUNNING ART](https://nightwingvixen23.tumblr.com/post/613425215690735616/my-fan-art-for-runnfromtheak-and-their)
> 
> Third, this fic is so long. It's mostly done, but I'll be posting in chunks randomly. Word count of the document is 28k, so I'll probably post another chunk next week :)
> 
> Fourth, this fic is opening a new series for me, which I will take requests for. Stray!Dick won't leave my head, so there will be sequels and missing scenes.
> 
> Fifth, timeline is confusing, so feel free to drop a comment with any questions or ask me on tumblr (LostandLonelyBirds is my writing, RUNNFROMTHEAK is my main)
> 
> Sixth, I have a playlist of bops to go along with it!! It's on spotify and it is titled Stray!Dick, username is also RUNNFROMTHEAK!!!
> 
> And, I think that's it! I love each and everyone of you so much, so I will warn you there will be a big tone shift next chapter, and there's some clues sprinkled in this chunk. I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Edit (10/31/2020): I'm editing the chapters so that way everything will be more coherent when I update next and the timeline will be easier to understand. Love you all <3

*

**Now**

*****

Dick’s pretty sure he’s loved Jason Todd from the moment he’d caught him stealing the tires off the Batmobile and forced Bruce to not be an emotionless prick for once in his life. Which is just _so great_ because his mom can _never know_ , not with how much he makes fun of her getting distracted by Batman when they clash.

It’s not something he’s used to feeling, the quick-fire tempo his heart beats to, the fire flaring in his cheeks and butterflies in his stomach… He’s been in the business of seduction and distraction too long to let himself be so obvious, so _blatant_ , and by the time Cardinal hits the streets he’s prepared…

… _mostly_. He _thinks_ he’s prepared until he sees the way the teen looks in skin-tight red and black Kevlar, armored and complete with a cape. He looks like a mini Batman, but _much_ better looking…

“What the _fuck_ ,” he says louder than he means to, drawing the attention of both Bruce and Jason. “Fuck.”

He is _not_ blushing, and if Bruce so much as _mentions_ it, he will shove the man’s _entire cape_ down his stupid throat, Alfred’s threats of withholding cookies be damned.

“Stray, where’s Catwoman?” He rolls his eyes at Bruce – as _if_ he’s going to snitch on Selina for her occasional boy-toy. Bruce may not be as stupid as _Brucie_ , but he’s just as annoying. Dick _really_ had a traumatizing enough childhood without hearing his mother-figure scream like a banshee every time the overgrown ape grunts his way into her arms, and even with the bonus of Alfred’s company, tolerating Bruce is a heavy burden.

Ivy’s motto of ‘ _Men Ain’t Shit’_ rings all too true, and Dick _needs_ to get around to making shirts.

Maybe he’ll be able to talk Selina into wearing it to Bruce’s in exchange for not spreading rumors of _Brucie’s_ dick hygiene to all of high society. It _had_ been fun, for him and Oliver Queen at least, and he’s pretty sure Alfred’s mustache had twitched (the polite, British version of rolling on the floor laughing).

Roy had gotten a kick out of it, too, even if Donna had lectured both of them on provoking Batman. It’s like she doesn’t know that Dick has been doing it since Selina took him in at the ripe old age of eight. Pissing off Batman is a language he’s fluent in, even if Bruce just so happens to be frustratingly fluent in pissing _him_ off.

“Hopefully getting better taste,” He says, flexing his claws more out of boredom than as a threat, “I’m flying solo tonight.”

“Don’t you mean _running_ , kitty-cat?” Jason teases, eyeing the cat ears Dick had fought Selina on more times than he was okay with saying. “I don’t think cats can fly.”

Dick snorts. Jason hadn’t been acting like hot shit at the Gala where they’d been formally introduced. Dick remembers how embarrassed the younger had been when Dick called him out on the staring, how he’d tried to cover it up with anger that was just too cute and ended up covered in a tray of hors d’oeuvres instead.

It's adorable how pouty Jason can get when he thinks no one is looking, especially when he's pretending to be angry.

“Cats always land on their feet, what exactly do bats do, Batkid? Flail around stupidly and bump into each other like drunken goons in the Iceberg Lounge?”

Jason straightens.

“It’s Cardinal,” He says, and he sounds so _proud_ that Dick nearly laughs. He’s hot, but god, that name is corny as shit.

Batman and Cardinal. Hell, add _Avocetman_ and they’d be the violent version of the ABCs.

Do they just flip through catalogs of flying creatures at random to pick their names? Because _Batman_ doesn't sound half as terrifying as _Owlman_ , and _Cardinal_ just makes him want to laugh.

“You sure you shouldn’t be Black Canary’s sidekick, bird brain?”

Bruce’s affronted expression makes this entire interaction worth it, even if it takes time out of his busy schedule of pissing Penguin off ( _he_ is the one who gets to make cat puns, but the _stupid_ bird seemed to think he had a right… Stray will _show him_ the meaning of flightless bird. _~~Gak~~_ ~~_gak,_ motherfucker~~).

He sighs. It’s tough being a criminal mastermind surrounded by idiots… It _really_ is.

Take Nygma, for example. The man thinks he's a god because he can make rhyming _boring_ and constructs stupidly elaborate puzzles Bruce always finds a way around. The Riddler is basically an escape room enthusiast with an ego the _~~alleged~~_ size of Bane’s dick on venom. All that insanity and supposed brilliance wasted on goddamn riddles. If Dick has to hear any more riddles in the next three months, he’s going to _solve_ the Nygma problem with something more permanent than duct tape.

~~( _It’s not like Riddler **needs** a tongue to live_)~~

“Nah, she’s kickass and all but…” he looks to Bruce meaningfully, smiling in a way that made Stray’s heart melt. Just a little bit. A small, tiny, tip-of-the-iceberg thaw. Selina is _never allowed to know_. “I’m happy with the mentor I got.”

And Bruce Wayne, captain of looking constipated, _smiles back_. It is, frankly, too sugary a moment for him to witness. Reminds him of Bruce’s sad attempts to bond with him out of costume by barging in on Girls’ Night with the Sirens. He’s still amazed Bruce had left with all his parts intact, even if he had been on his best behavior.

“Can’t get the appeal, Blue Jay, but good looks don’t always mean good taste. Just look at Mom…”

Jason’s cheeks flush as Bruce pinches his nose, looking completely done with Dick’s antics. Oh? Does the Caped Crusader _not_ enjoy a member of his family being the object of someone on the opposite side of the law’s flirtations?

Dick’s _so_ taking advantage of this new nerve Bruce has left exposed. He can’t be on the man’s nerves if Bruce doesn’t react, after all, and this definitely counts as a reaction from Batman.

Dick smirks, unzipping his suit slightly and stretching. He’s shameless, and it’s a good thing he doesn’t care. The whip comes to hand easily, wrapping like silk around his waist.

“Pretty hot tonight, isn’t it?” Jason’s blush grows, and Dick wants to see how far it reaches, where it stops. He wants to trace it with his finger and mark the path with his tongue…

Cardinal takes a step away from the Bat’s side, transfixed, and it makes something in Dick positively _purr_.

“Blue Jay, do you know how to fly?” And maybe Bruce sees the edge to his smile before Jason can notice it because he stiffens.

“Fly?” He questions, cheeks still a delightful shade of red.

He nods, pulling a diamond he’d stolen forever ago from Wayne Manor out of his pouch. It's always a good thing to have something to hold over Bruce’s head when a distraction is needed, or when Dick just wants to piss him off. Martha is a sore spot he’s taken advantage of plenty of times.

“Do you think Martha minds me having this?”

Jason stares at it in confusion.

“I thought I noticed something go missing,” Bruce mutters, sounding tired and resigned in that typical _boring_ way of his.

Stray doesn’t know why he bothers. Bruce isn’t even _attempting_ to get riled up, even after all that effort Dick put into stealing it. Ungrateful of him, really. Poor Alfred, having to raise such a selfish bastard.

“I can get it!” Jason shouts, and his eyes still linger on Dick’s exposed chest, ears red even as the blush completely fades.

“Doubtful. I learned to fly before I learned to walk. Cats don’t fly, but I was a Robin before I became one.”

He winks at Jay over his shoulder, flicking his whip at the nearest grappling point.

“Catch me if you can, Blue Jay!”

(Spoiler alert: Jason doesn’t catch him, and that’s half the fun)

* * *

*

**Past - Age 8**

*****

“What are you doing here, kid?”

Dick’s heart skips a beat, files clutched tight to his chest as he turns. In the doorway of the evidence locker, Catwoman stares at him, black-painted lips spread in a smirk. Her arms cross as she leans against the doorframe, effortlessly seductive. Dick thinks she’s as beautiful as his mother was, before Zucco…

Tears prick the corners of his eyes, but he forces them away. No time for that now, not while his parents’ killer still runs free.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replies, pointedly staring at the police key she would have had to steal.

She shrugs, twirling the key around her finger.

“I was bored, and I saw you breaking and entering. I’m not exactly in the business of crime-stopping, but I was curious.”

She straightens, looking at him questioningly.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Robin,” he answers, thinking of his mother, of her gentle love and affection and care that Zucco had taken from him. He thinks of his father too, his strength and his kindness, his protectiveness and dad jokes. Dick misses them both dearly, more than he’s ever missed anything. It's an ever-present ache, constantly twisting and churning in the gaping maw of his bloodied heart. He is their little Robin, and it’s as Robin he’ll avenge them.

It’s not like he trusts Catwoman, not with his real name. His red hoodie covers his face, and in the darkness, his features aren’t very clear. He’s sure he’ll be okay. He doesn’t think he's too recognizable with all the dirt and grime painting his skin. Sleeping on the streets _sucks._

“Where are your parents, Robin? And why did you take those files?”

He glares at her, stepping back. He’s not going to have another chance to get them, he can’t let Catwoman take them back. He’d already lost Zucco in Crime Alley when Batman found him, and he hasn’t been able to hack into the Police’s online files after Batman reinforced them. He _has_ to find Zucco, has to make him _pay_. If the cops aren’t going to do it, if _Batman_ won’t do it, then he’ll do it himself.

“Dead,” He answers, feeling the familiar stab of pain as he remembers their faces as they fell, the joy turned to fear, “and you _can’t_ have these files.”

Catwoman blinks, frowning.

“Dead? Who do you live with, then?”

Technically, he lives in an overcrowded orphanage filled to the brim with criminal delinquents and uncaring guards rather than caretakers. He hasn't been there in days, which is why he _really_ needs to leave before Batman can find him again, before he can take Dick back to the cold rooms and rock-hard mattresses with uncaring guards and the mocking and jeering about the dirty circus _freak_ —

“Robin?”

He frowns at her.

“I live in an orphanage. They don’t care.”

She snorts.

“I bet they don’t. That’s Gotham for ya. You still haven’t told me what’s in the files, and I promise I’m not taking them from you.”

Dick drops his head, staring at the files he’s spent the last few _months_ planning to get.

“My parents were murdered. This is everything the GCPD found when they investigated, before declaring it an _accident_.”

He clenches his hands into fists, imagining the smug set of Zucco's oily face as he'd left the circus, threats dripping like honeyed promises to a paling Haly.

“No one _believes me_ , because I’m just some dumb kid. My parents were murdered, and I’m…”

His voice cracks, tears spilling down his cheeks as he thinks of the _blood_ , the sound his parents’ bodies made when they landed…

“ _DICK!”_

“I’m the only one left to care.”

Catwoman’s frown grows, and she steps forward, pulling him into her arms. He latches on to her, desperate for some form of affection after weeks without it, weeks without his _parents_ or his _family_ or anyone to care, anyone to notice him as anything other than a target.

“I believe you, little bird,” She murmurs into his hair as his arms tighten around her. Catwoman’s claws gently run up and down his back soothingly, letting him sob into the crook of her neck.

She’s warm and soft, despite the leather suit that Dick can almost pretend is a leotard, like the ones back in at the circus. She smells like jasmine and vanilla, like the incense his mother would burn in their family trailer after performances. It feels good, even if it hurts.

“Shh, let it out. It’s okay…”

It takes him a few minutes to calm down, to gather some semblance of composure and force down the grief, the _pain_ , that makes it difficult for him to focus.

“S-sorry,” He stutters, moving to pull away from her, but Catwoman just smiles.

“It’s okay, little bird. It’s pretty impressive you got in here without anyone noticing. How old are you?”

“Eight,” he murmurs, “I’m…eight.”

“RAISE YOUR HANDS AND EXIT THE EVIDENCE LOCKER NOW!”

Dick startles, jumping at the shout of GCPD officers.

“Shit,” Catwoman curses, looking from him to the entrance cops were fast approaching. She turns to stare at him, calculating.

“Tell you what, Robin. I’ll help you with your case, but you gotta come with me _now_. You in?”

He frowns. He doesn’t know if he _should_ trust her or if he _can_ trust her. She’s a criminal, he knows that much, but what choice does he have? Being thrown back into an orphanage under closer surveillance? Dealing with the cops, and potentially Batman, when neither believes him?

He sighs. It’s no choice at all.

“I’m in,” he responds, and Catwoman grins, crouching down low.

“Hop on, little bird, and hold on tight.”

He wraps his arms and legs around her, holding on as tight as he can as Catwoman jumps on to the racks near the skylight.

The cops enter the room, and Dick hides his face in Catwoman’s shoulder again. He’d rather not risk being identified, not when he’s committed a crime. The cops are much more likely to recognize him than Catwoman is, after all.

“CATWOMAN, FREEZE!”

Catwoman turns, blowing the officers a kiss and winking.

“Adios, boys!”

By the time the cops think to shoot, they’re gone.

(And by the time Selina learns his name, keeping her word to help him send Zucco to jail, she adds to it: Richard Grayson-Kyle)

* * *

*

**Now**

*

The next time they meet, it’s on an empty street at ten to one. The road is partially collapsed from Two-Face’s latest ~~failed~~ plot to be relevant again, and it’s blocked off by defaced police blockades ( _god he loves Gotham_ ). The bank he targets out of sheer boredom is closed for repairs, but that’s an open invitation for an all-you-can-grab buffet of money in his mind. Harley tags along for bonding, and they’re both struggling to conceal their loot when Cardinal and Batman appear, moralities a flutter like victorian maidens offended by too much ankle. 

Harley turns to him, gun dangled from her hand haphazardly and mock-glare in place.

“I thought ya didn’ trip any of the alarms, kit-kat?”

Stray props his hip out dramatically, arms crossed, watching them from the corner of his eye.

“I didn’t, the Dark Knight just seems to have a penchant for stalking. Tell me, Harls, do you think I can get a restraining order on an urban legend?”

She pauses, grinning at the not-that-Dynamic Duo who had yet to attack.

“Ah I can’t imagine Gotham’s finest will give a shit, you might end up in the cuffs.” Harley blows a bubble and pops it obnoxiously, still grinning.

Stray winks at Cardinal, tossing his loot to Harley and pulling the whip from its sheath with practiced ease.

“I do like it rough,” he purrs, flexing the whip for good measure. Jason’s so easy, it’s adorable the way his face immediately turns the exact shade of a ripened tomato. It's quickly becoming his favorite look on Jason's face. “How’d ya find us anyhow? I _know_ I didn’t trip any of your secret alarms, Boring-man.”

It’d be impressive how little Batman visibly reacts (as used to Stray’s barrage of creative insults as he is) if he Dick didn't find it so infuriating. The unappreciative batstard ( _Heh, he’ll have to use that_ ).…

Bruce’s left eye twitches slightly, and Dick wonders if he’s going to have another grey hair to name soon (he’s almost run out of names; Robin is a hair that grows near his widow’s peak, next to Richard and Dick. Stray is a lone hair that grows back in Bruce’s facial area no matter how many times he shaves or plucks it, and Grayson is a cluster of grey near the back of his head that Bruce keeps dying black).

“I upgraded the alarms last week.”

Dick glares.

“Is this before or after you fucked my mother?”

Harley cackles, finding Dick’s pain hilarious as always _~~traitor~~_ , but Batman doesn’t pay her any heed.

“Before.”

He is _so_ going to break into the Batcave and deface the stupid dinosaur again. Full drag this time instead of the Joker theme, and then he’ll hack into the Batcomputer and rearrange Bruce’s _entire_ case system again. Every time Bruce tries to change it back, he’ll make sure a Britney song plays. Bruce _hates_ Britney songs.

“Let me guess, you two are on the outs again? Pro tip: don’t be a gigantic dickwad like normal, and she might _actually_ stick around. Her normally impeccable taste seems to have a major blind spot where you're concerned, after all.”

Bruce’s eyes squint, but he gives no other indication he heard Stray. Jason chuckles, turning it into a cough when Bruce whirls on him.

“Are we going to fight already?” Jason cuts in, still looking amused at Dick’s remarks.

Stray relaxes his posture, snapping the whip out and smiling seductively at Cardinal.

“For someone who couldn’t keep up last night, you seem rather eager to test your stamina. Think you can keep _it_ up?”

Harley nods at him with a grin, pushing the loot towards the alley with a quick kick and grabbing her mallet. Batman notices, eyes narrowing at Stray. He never appreciates the double-entendres unless they're cat related and come from Selina, which, _ewwww_. Stray's dished his fair share of cat puns, but he will _never ever_ stoop to the absolute low of making a _‘cat that got the canary_ ’ joke after giving a blowjob. He’s just as scarred as Selina is that he’d walked _in_ on that part, especially with how _into it_ Bruce seemed to be.

How a man like Alfred raised someone with the exact personality of a graffitied brick wall, Dick will never know. He suspects Alfred doesn’t either, grieving the surely more interesting child Bruce should have become with his normal stoicism.

“Oh I _know_ I can, Pretty Bird. Can you?”

Cardinal launches himself at him, baton extended and aimed at Stray’s stomach. Dick has to flip out of its path, landing in a crouch. He doesn’t need to look to hear Harley’s assault on Bruce, Bruce’s grumbled attempts to avoid cursing let him know Harley is kicking ass like always. God, he loves his Aunt.

“You’re fast,” Jason notes, grinning. He’s panting slightly, a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead as he works, trying to get close enough to land a hit only for Dick to dart out of his path.

Dick’s trained with the Bat _and_ the Cat, not to mention the Rogue’s Gallery, so he outclasses Jason by quite a bit.

“Maybe you’re just slow,” Dick fires back, using his whip to pull the baton right from his hands. “See?”

Cardinal glares, throwing another predictable attack at Dick.

“Is my Jaybird upset?” He teases, dodging blows with the liquid grace he’s spent years learning from a combination of Selina and Bruce, even if Selina says his style is more natural than hers.

Cardinal’s foot nearly connects with his face, but he manages to duck under it, wrapping his whip around Jason and pulling him close. There’s a small cluster of freckles scattered near the bridge of Jason’s nose that distracts Dick for a moment. He wants to kiss him, but _Stray_ never makes the first move, that would be too easy. Boring, even. Much more satisfying to play the long game.

“You don’t mind if I fuck your son, right, B? Since you fuck my mom every weekend? Sweet Home Alabama and all that jazz? Or is it jizz? English is so confusing, and I mix up sayings so easily.”

Jason chokes, and Harley takes the momentary advantage she has on Bruce to slam the mallet into his stomach as he stares at Dick with something akin to gapping horror (conveyed of course by several involuntary twitches Dick takes wayyyyy too much joy in causing). Dick leans in, watching Jason’s eyes flutter shut, and breathes. When Jason’s no more than a hair width away he shoves him, unraveling the whip as he falls. Cardinal sprawls on the concrete road, and Stray cackles, blowing him a kiss.

“Gotta go, hot stuff, but better luck next time!”

(Jason’s freckles remain in Stray’s mind the entire night, and the almost kiss remains in Jason’s)

* * *

*

**Past - Age 10**

*

When Dick Grayson turns ten, he befriends Roy Harper and Wally West. The night starts off boring – Selina had made him promise to stop harassing Bruce at these things and trying to pimp him out to every harpy with fake tits ( _her words, not his_ ) – the same way most of these things do. He waves at Alfred when he sees him, and glowers at Bruce when he pulls Selina into a waltz. He’d wanted to stay home but she had _insisted_ , threatening to make Stray patrol with Batman if he didn’t tag along. He loves his mom, really, he does, but she can be evil.

He lets the trophy wives pinch his cheeks and coo, resisting the temptation to swipe their stupid diamonds off their necks, and lets the businessmen clap him on the back and commend him for _taking care_ of Selina, as though _Catwoman_ is someone who needs to be taken care of. He keeps the eye-rolling and pickpocketing to a minimum until a pair of gingers crash into him.

A pair of _familiar_ gingers, who Stray _totally_ does not know from Batman’s secret files he _definitely_ had not hacked when the man had been out of town after a weapons shipment that most definitely had not been faked and planted for the sake of accessing the Batcomputer, no ma'am.

Kid Flash and Speedy - which is such a _dumb_ name for an archer, almost as dumb as the pointed hat thing he wore with that sad excuse of a costume - look exactly like their file's photos. Flash boy looks a bit neater, if anything, but that can only be an improvement if you ask Dick, given the monstrosity that is his running hair.

They damn near mow him over, and it’s only through years of practice, first at the circus and later with Selina, that he manages to flip back and land in a crouch. It’s a move he can get away without a costume and mask, unlike Bruce Wayne. Perks of dead acrobat parents, he supposes.

“I’MSOSORRY!” Wally shouts, thrusting a hand into Dick's face to help him up and nearly hitting his nose. Dick eyes it warily and gets to his feet without the offered assistance. Wally’s cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” he replies, brushing off the suit without looking at either of them. “No big.”

Oliver Queen’s adopted son Roy elbows Wally in the stomach roughly. Dick already sort of knows Roy; they do run in the same circles after all, even if Roy’s two years older. He wouldn’t exactly call him a friend, but they’ve talked.

“My friend’s an idiot, he’s not really used to this scene.”

Dick eyes Wally West with a grin, watching him twitch like a dying grasshopper before an entomologist's eager eyes. No wonder Roy's keeping him so close - the piranhas in plastic smiles and designer clothes would eat him alive. 

“I can tell.”

Wally’s blush deepens.

“I don’t know if I should be offended or not,” he mumbles, and Dick laughs for the first time since Selina dragged him here.

“It’s a compliment. Everyone here is beyond boring, trust me.”

Wally and Roy both chuckle too, and he mentally pats himself on the back. Some people can appreciate his cattitude, Bruce should take notes. Bruce just can't handle being served by anyone besides his ex-secret agent British butler, in any form of the word.

“Wally West, menace-extraordinaire and decidedly non-wealthy member of this party,” the civilian form of Kid Flash says, offering him a hand to shake with a smile. This time, he takes it.

“Richard Grayson, but you can call me Dick. And yes, I’ve heard the jokes, and yes, I am sticking with it.”

“Noted.”

“Roy Harper, but we’ve already been introduced by –”

Dick mentally rolls his eyes, thinking of Bruce Wayne’s attempts to force him into friendships. For some reason, he has it in his head that if Dick gets friends on the legal-ish side of the law (“ _Vigilantes are still technically criminals, Batman!”’_ ) he’ll stop stealing. Fat chance of that, especially if it would make Bruce happy. He lives to be the source of Batman’s brooding, and considering how much the man broods, Dick thinks he’s wildly successful. If he could monetize annoying Batman and turn it into a stable career, he’d be richer than Lex Luthor, Oliver Queen, and Bruce combined. Isn't _that_ an idea…

“Bruce Wayne, yeah. Not a fan.”

Roy snorts, and Wally’s eyes dart towards Bruce nervously.

“Who is?”

“Selina, sadly.”

“Ouch. That’s rough, dude,” Wally commiserates.

“You know what we should do?” Roy asks, eyes brightening with mischief Dick usually sees when he’s plotting in front of his vanity.

“What?” Wally asks, seemingly vibrating with excitement. Wait, make that _literally,_ considering his clothes are acquiring the fuzzy, pixelated quality of shitty flip phone videos. Huh, guess that's a speedster thing?

“Make his life difficult? Ruin his stupid tuxedo? Bring down the chandelier?” Dick questions, looking at that wonderful, beautiful chandelier he _really_ wants to swing on distractedly.

“Yes,” Roy says at the same time Wally says, “No.”

“Wait, _bring down the chandelier?_ You could do that?”

Dick grins, recalling his latent fantasies of that chandelier crashing on the heads of all the handsy socialites. Thinking about it is his main form of entertainment here, almost as cathartic as going on the trapeze until his muscles burn.

“I’m an acrobat, it would be easy.”

“But Roy,” Wally pouts, “He’s Bat—” he pauses, wide-eyed as he realizes Dick is still there.“He’s absolutely batty,” Roy interjects, throwing an arm around Wally’s shoulders with a grin that isn’t doing anything to help fix Wally’s slipup. “Isn’t that right, _Wallace_?”

Wally nods eagerly, a bit like a bobblehead, fake smile plastered wide.

Dick stares at them impassively, arms crossed.

“You are bad at secret-keeping, Flash boy,” Dick announces, wagging a finger at him. “Lucky for you, I already knew.”

“What-?"

He winks at the pair over his shoulder, walking towards the chandelier with a purpose.

“You coming?”

“What the _heck_ ,” he hears Wally grumble to Roy under his breath as they follow, “Who is he?”

“I am pretty sure that’s Stray.”

(By the end of the night, Bruce doesn’t end up with Selina in his bed like he’d been expecting. He instead ends up being lectured by a disheveled Alfred while the guests leave, fragments of the chandelier scattered across the ballroom floor. Selina’s hand drags Dick out the door and he’s not even pretending to pay attention to her lecture when Bruce and he make eye contact. Dick winks, the weight of Wally and Roy’s numbers a welcome burden in his pocket. Galas just got a _lot_ more interesting.)

* * *

*

**Now**

*

Selina, as much as he loves her, can sometimes be insane. A side-effect of long-term exposure to Bruce and his most-likely-diseased-playboy-dick, he’s sure, but it could just be exposure to Bruce period.

The majority of the time she’s cool, relaxed, and happy to help him wing his eyeliner or perfect his lipstick (black on black is still in, eat your heart out _Vogue_ ) but when she _isn’t_ chill, she’s almost as overbearing as Bruce is with Jason (tea time with Alfred is still his best way of getting info on Jason, especially after Bruce’s lack of humor when Dick did, in fact, force his stupid dinosaur into full drag. It helps that Alfred likes him).

He _technically_ shouldn’t be here. Selina doesn't mind him going to clubs and bars with his fake so long as he's responsible and tells her when he goes and how much he drinks, but Selina had banned him from going out in _any_ capacity after his one-off attempt at stealing one of Batman’s cases out of his grubby, greedy hands (is there not enough murder to go around? Can he not take _one_ murder case for fun? Just _one_?) _._

Something about _danger_ and how he isn’t Cardinal.

Supposedly, one of the local mob bosses (one Bernelli Jameson) coming here tonight knows something about an assassin into feathers, leather and knife-play (which, under different circumstances, sounds like a good night, but the damn guy hadn't spoken or asked for his safe word, which, _rude much?_ ), and considering the jack squat he knows, any information is vital information.

Bruce is _also_ investigating, but Bruce did _not_ get this tip, so he knows the information’s as good as his, so long as his target is agreeable. Which he will be because he _has_ to be.

This case matters to him in a way it doesn’t matter to Bruce; it’s more personal for Dick, even beyond his petty squabbles with Bruce.

What he hadn’t told Selina when she’d found him with a knife in his gut and owl feathers scattered around was what Haly had said, “ _They watch you at your hearth, Dickie, my boy, they watch from the shadows and they want you. They’re waiting, waiting…”_ and then he’d died.

Haly’s death ruled an accident, just like his parents, and the Bat is just as unwilling to let him help as he was the first time around.

Selina had said no, but he’s not letting Bruce take over something that killed one of the few people he'd had left from his past.

“Dick?” Jason asks, eyes wide and blue. Wally and Roy flank him, red hair obnoxious in the neon lights.

He’s not dressed for a meet-up; he is not _mentally prepared for this_. He's in normal clothes scoping out the scene, outfit and accessories left in the back room. He’s on a seduction mission, the kind where clothes are a bit more optional. Jason _is not supposed to be here_.

‘ _Wow_ ,’ the traitorous, rather horny part of his mind thinks, ‘ _He looks damn good in leather._ ’

Jason’s hips and thighs are hugged by skintight leather pants, and his arms… _god,_ Dick needs to get laid. He does not salivate over skin-tight white t-shirts; he _makes_ people salivate.

“Back _here_!” He hisses, dragging Jason to a secluded booth by the stage and letting Roy and Wally trail behind. “Unless you can say it any _louder_ , you know, just in case my fucking target didn’t _hear you_.”

Jason blinks, and Dick pushes his shades up to rest in his gelled hair.

“What the hell are you guys doing here? Did Batman send you?”

It’s far from the first time he’s seen Jason in a bar with a fake ID. Hell, the Titans _love_ dragging him and Jason to strip clubs and because he's Jason’s oldest friend, they typically stick _very_ close together ( _read: because Donna, Roy, and Wally are all assholes who love to make his life difficult and because he’s still hoping Jason will make a move sometime in the next century so they can cut the sexual tension and he can **move on**_ ).

“Uh,” Jason replies rather eloquently, staring at Dick’s abs through the tight t-shirt.

He glances at the two redheads, hands on his hips.

“Well?”

“We aren’t here as heroes, kitty. What my less vocally inclined but charming-in-a-nerdy-sort-of-way friend means to say, is we’re here for fun.”

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Wally.

“Fun?”

Wally waggles his brows.

“Fun.”

Dick breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing into his normal slouch.

“Good, so…” He gets in close, trailing a claw on Wally’s shirt lightly, peering up at him through his lashes. The speedster inhales sharply. “I won’t have to kick your ass again?”

Wally laughs, a touch breathless, and Jason’s jaw clenches from the corner of Dick’s eye. He smirks to himself when Wally leans into him.

“You’re more than welcome to kick my ass any day, I’m too busy staring at yours. Besides, I’m pretty sure I won our last matchup in Central.”

A waitress comes by with a tray of drinks and Dick grabs the fruity looking thing he’d ordered. Jason shoots back a glass full of whiskey and slams it down on the table when Wally squeezes his Dick’s ass lightly.

Dick grins. Not his fault he’s hot and Wally knows how to initiate, unlike _some_ people he could name...

“Uh, I _literally_ came out on top, and I got away.”

“Did you see me complaining? I was the _real_ winner. Hate to see you go but _love_ to watch you leave.”

Roy coughs, and they both look over towards Jason’s glaring face. Dick shrugs it off, pulling away from Wally.

“Well, I have to go up for my routine in,” He checks his watch, “ten, so I’ll see you guys around.”

“Routine?” Jason asks, still trying (and failing) to keep the jealousy out of his expression.

Stray winks but doesn’t answer, knowing Jason’s watching every sway of his hips. He always has.

* * *

*

**Past - Age 12**

*

Dick Grayson is twelve when he, Roy, Wally, and a newly introduced Donna Troy steal the Batmobile.

“THIS WAS THE BEST IDEA EVER!” Wally shouts over the Batmobile’s engine, grinning wider than Dick’s ever seen as they race across Gotham’s streets.

It’s 1 am and Selina Kyle is distracting Bruce Wayne at one of those lame galas, one Dick narrowly got out of with this scheme. She’s all for a little fun, and who hasn’t wanted to take the Batmobile for a joyride around Gotham?

Dick grins, turning sharp enough to cut off four cars and slam Roy, Donna, and Wally into the right side of the car.

“How in the name of _Hera_ did you three talk me into this?” Donna asks, glaring darkly at Roy’s arm around her shoulders.

He removes it immediately, wincing like he can feel it burn his skin. Which it might. They hadn't really done the whole share circle with powers before Dick offered a little grand theft auto as a bonding activity.

“You know you love me!” Stray shouts, narrowly swerving out of a car’s path, and oops, looks like he’s on the wrong side of the road.

Roy whistles loudly, grinning.

“B’s gonna be so _pissed!_ ”

“What is your grudge against Batman anyways, Stray?!” Donna asks, still shouting because _damn_ the wind is pretty loud with all the Batmobile’s windows down when traveling at 90 mph.

“He’s around too much! I couldn’t _sleep_ last night because of how loud he and Selina were!”

And there’s a police siren, shit.

He moves the gear shift into reverse, spinning the wheel around and slamming on the gas.

“Hold on!”

“I THOUGHT YOU KNEW HOW TO DRIVE!” Wally shouts, glancing at the cops in the rearview mirror. “YOU SAID YOU KNEW HOW TO DRIVE!”

“I ALSO TOLD MYSELF I WAS STRAIGHT, AND HERE WE ARE! I AM TWELVE, WALLACE! I CAN GUESTIMATE, BUT IT’S NOT LIKE I HAVE MY LICENSE!”

Wally ignores the first bit, already used to Dick’s jokes from the time he’d nailed two guys simultaneously with an impressive display of gymnastics and told Wally it was because he swings both ways.

At least Selina still finds him funny.

“WHY COULDN’T ROY DRIVE?!”

Dick glares at Wally, pulling his goggles down.

“BECAUSE ALFRED LIKES ME, AND I HAD TO HOTWIRE THE STUPID THING!”

A couple of bullets bounce off the back bumper loudly.

“Not the time boys!” Donna interjects. “We will _all_ die if the cops actually catch up to us. Amazonian punishments are _not_ something I feel like experiencing on my first expedition free of Diana’s presence.”

“OH, SO WE WANT TO LOSE THEM?! I DIDN’T NOTICE WHEN THERE ARE BULLETS LITERALLY BEING FIRED AT THIS STUPID HUNK OF JUNK!”

He accelerates the car faster as a few more cop cars join in pursuit.

“ROY, SHOOT OUT THEIR TIRES!”

“Wait, what?!” Roy asks wide-eyed, and Stray nearly strangles him. _Nearly_.

“JUST DO IT!”

“GUYS,” Wally interjects as Roy pulls a few arrows and Donna holds him out the window. “I THINK I’M GOING TO BE SICK!”

“THE WINDOW IS DOWN, WALLACE!” Donna snaps, giving up on trying to be the only sane person in the stolen Batmobile, “IF YOU THROW UP IN HERE I WILL THROW YOU OUT OF THE CAR!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a speedster?!” Dick questions, looking at Wally when he turns an odd shade of green. “A little joyride is really making you sick?! Come on!”

“YOU DRIVE,” Wally heaves, leaning out the window, “LIKE A PSYCHOPATH! WHERE’D YOU LEARN? JOKER’S SCHOOL FOR UNDERAGE MANIACS?!”

Dick brakes fast, sending Wally flying into the dash roughly, before resuming his super illegal speed.

“DUDE!”

Donna pulls a pale Roy back in, and he looks guilty. A quiet beeping is barely audible, and when Dick glances back at the cops’ tires, he can see blinking lights.

“Please tell me that was a regular arrow,” Dick says, glaring at Roy in the rearview mirror. He may be sitting on books to see over the wheel, but he’s intimidating, damnit!

“I-I think I maybe shot an explosive arrow by mistake.”

The Amazon’s eyes snap on to the archer, voice taut with warning.

“You did _what_.”

Donna, Roy, Wally, and Dick all cringe when they hear the small explosion, and the smell of burning plastic fills the street.

“Whoopsy?” Wally mutters, still looking sickly.

Stray slaps him upside the head.

* * *

Bruce Wayne’s Stray-sense is tingling, the inexplicable sensation that warns him when Selina’s child is doing something to spite him, or potentially harm him in a non-fatal way. Last time he’d ignored it, Stray had redesigned his entire Batcave to look like the home of a Joker fanatic. It didn’t help his focus when laughing teeth appeared from out of nowhere and bit into his ankle rather viciously. He still has no clue how Stray had gotten his hands on those stupid things, and he’s just glad Riddler and Scarecrow are in Arkham (because Stray loves wreaking havoc on Batman with his entire Rogue gallery, minus Joker).

Stray’s borderline psychotic pranks are typically worse when he Bruce spends the night at Selina’s apartment, and he’d spent the entire weekend there.

“Selina?” Bruce asks as he dips her, breath nearly taken away by how beautiful she is. He always forgets, even with how often they are together. Selina’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. “Where are the kids?”

For some inexplicable reason, Oliver, Diana, and Barry had all wanted to attend this particular Gala at their wards’ urging. He’s just glad Hal didn’t get an invite, he’s the most intolerable member of the League.

Selina’s eyes twinkle slightly, bright red lips sliding into a sly grin that typically spells trouble for either his heart rate or his sanity.

“The kids? Oh, they must be here somewhere, don’t worry about them. I’m sure Dick is keeping them out of trouble.”

She pecks him lightly on the mouth, and he pulls away muttering, “ _Dick_ is the one I’m worried about.”

* * *

“Why are you like this?!” Roy demands, smushed between the door and Donna for the fifth time that night. Normally, the redhead wouldn’t complain about a gorgeous girl pinning him to the wall, but Donna’s glares were almost as scary as Stray’s. “Who taught you to drive like this?!”

“The circus! Also Aunt Harley, but that’s more evasive tactics to get away from ‘bozos’, in her words!”

Dick floors it, swerving out of the wrong lane again, honking back aggressively when someone flips him off.

“It fucking shows, man! No sane person would drive like you!”

“If you don’t like my driving, drive yourselves.”

Stray kicks his feet onto the dash, crossing them as he lets go of the wheel. It is hard work looking this good, and some people just don’t appreciate it.

Wally dives for the wheel, narrowly pulling them back onto the road. Roy’s half out the window and Donna’s hanging onto his ankles, trying and failing to lift him back up.

“Roy, you _dumbass_ , help me out here!”

“I’m trying, _Donna,_ but not all of us have super strength from the goddamn gods!”

“I DON’T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!” Wally screams, and Roy lifts himself up enough to glare at Stray.

“Stray, TAKE THE GODDAMN WHEEL!”

“Oh, so _now_ my driving is good enough.” He huffs. “I see how it is.”

“Stray, _so help me Zeus_ —”

“Fine!”

He shoves Wally roughly to the side, easing onto the break as he tries to slow down Kid Idiot’s attempts to push the Batmobile to its limits.

Roy nearly falls on top of Donna as she finally manages to pull him in, sprawling out on the leather cushions.

“You, Roy, are too heavy.”

Roy rolls his eyes, ignoring her.

“Guys, there’s a blockade in front of us.”

Stray grins.

“Not for long, Eagle Eyes. You may want to buckle up, this is going to be a rough ride.”

As he slams down on the gas again, Wally mock whispers to Donna, “Because we’ve obviously been smooth sailing until now.”

Donna nods.

“We aren’t telling Diana.”

“But we are _definitely_ telling Uncle Hal.”

* * *

“Hey Barry-bear,” Oliver Queen says, tapping his friend on the shoulder. “Do you know where Roy and Wally are? Haven’t seen them in a while.”

Barry frowns, looking around the ballroom.

“No, actually, I haven’t seen Donna and Dick either.”

Their eyes meet, and they both look over at Bruce in unison. Selina winks at them, putting a finger over her lips.

“Shit. Should we warn Bats?”

Oliver snorts.

“I’m good. Stray is too passive-aggressive for a twelve-year-old. I get enough attitude from Roy.”

Barry shivers.

“Good point. Should we tell Diana? She’s gonna get a kick out of it.”

“Duh!”

* * *

“Why is this song on now? _How_ is this song on now?” Donna asks as _Ridin’ Dirty_ blasts through the Batmobile’s speakers. The seats vibrate to the beat, loud enough that every car in a five-mile radius can probably hear the song.

It’s a good thing Dick likes attention.

“iPod,” he offers, pointing to the device he’d hooked up to the Batmobile’s stereo. “Buckle up!”

The blockade shatters under the force of the Batmobile going at a speed Dick is, frankly, afraid to look at, and the few cops brave enough to not call off the pursuit look very angry. Wally stands on top of his seat as the car lands, looking back at the wreckage behind them as they speed away.

“WOO-HOO!”

Donna and Roy grin, standing up to join him.

“I can’t _wait_ to see the look on Bruce’s face when he sees this!” Dick cackles.

* * *

“Commissioner Gordon,” a uniformed officer interrupts, nodding politely at Diana, “The Batmobile is ripping apart downtown Gotham’s streets. So far there have been four minor fires and estimates of tens of thousands of dollars in damage. There have also been countless noise complaints, with how loud the vehicle’s music is.”

The police officer wrinkles her nose.

“Ridin’ Dirty is _such_ an old song.”

Gordon’s eyes widen.

“But why would Batman—?"

“It isn’t Batman, sir. It’s Kid Flash, Wonder Girl, Speedy, and what looks like Stray.”

“Stray?” Gordon only looks more confused, searching the room for Dick. “Shit.”

“Diana!” Oliver shouts, running towards them with Barry in tow. “Wally and Donna and Roy and–”

Barry slams into him as he stops dead at the sight of the Commissioner and the cop.

“You know what, I think we should talk over here. Lovely to see you!”

He drags Diana away and Gordon grumbles to himself, “It’s like they aren’t even trying to hide it anymore.”

* * *

“That was fun!” Wally decides as the Batmobile pulls to a stop in front of Wayne Manor, “Even if we nearly died. We should do this more often!”

“Like a team thing?” Dick wrinkles his nose. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I’m kind of a criminal.”

Donna drapes an arm around him, smiling.

“A kind criminal, and one who mainly steals from the rich and crooked, right? And I was thinking more like a friend thing. Less official, but functionally the same.”

Dick mumbles something incoherent, flushing slightly.

Roy slings an arm around his other side, pulling Wally with him.

“So it’s official. I’m so down. Any time, any day. Oliver drives me insane sometimes. I vote Dick as leader, by the way.”

Dick snorts.

“Only on weekends, I still gotta steal for a living.”

“So _this_ is why there were reports of Batman in Gotham,” Bruce says suddenly, appearing in front of them all. Wally screams, and Dick just rolls his eyes. “I’m almost impressed by the amount of destruction you four caused, but it’s to be expected with Stray.”

Stray rolls his eyes again as the other three exchange looks; arms crossed.

“Be happy I didn’t spray paint it green with nice Green Lantern symbols. Or dye the Batsuit bright pink again. Wait a minute, that actually sounds like a good idea…”

“TO THE BATMOBILE!” Roy shouts, and they all take off again.

Alfred pats Bruce’s shoulder consolingly as Stray flips him off, amused grin evident.

‘ _Traitor,’_ Bruce thinks. If only he could convince Alfred to stop fraternizing with the child…

* * *

*

**Now**

*

By the time it’s his turn to go on, he knows he looks hotter than hell. He added glitter to his smokey-eye and exaggerated the red-eyeliner into a cat-eye, blended to perfection as Selina and Harley had taught him. He swapped his tight t-shirt and skinny jeans for a fake two-piece that looks nearly identical to his Stray suit, except for the added collar with a little bell. His heels have an extra two inches added on so he matches the other dancers, and his nails and lips are painted black to match. He looks better than he’s ever looked, and this mission just got a whole lot easier.

He knows Jameson is into guys, and even if he weren't, Dick’s the exception to most straight guys’ sexualities. He shrugs, peeking out from the stage to see the Idiots Three at a table near his target, each nursing a drink and looking bored as the girl spins around lazily to a Madonna song.

‘ _Amateur,’_ he thinks, smirking when he pictures what their reactions to his routine will be. Maybe Jason will finally initiate something, without Dick having to sleep with someone else in front of him. All that jealousy and Cardinal the Boy Blunder refused to do anything. It's infuriating, and Donna is about ready to confront Jason on it. Stray might let her. Maybe she could borrow Diana's lasso and make him spill.

He shoves all thoughts of Jason out of his mind as the first note of _Buttons_ sounds, dim lights all the cue he needs. He starts with his back to the crowd, crouched on the chair. It’s an uncomfortable position in stilettos, but he’ll deal. Not as bad as trying to fight Batman in heels.

He sways his arms from above him to his side as the tempo progresses, first left then right, before moving his hands onto his hips as he shimmies up. By the time he has his hands above him, he goes back down just as slow, thrusting back just enough to draw the eyes of everyone.

‘ _One, two, three—’_

_I'm telling you loosen up my buttons, baby (uh-huh)_

_But you keep fronting (uh)_

He drops his feet to the ground as Nicole’s voice joins the hypnotic tempo, kicking the chair back towards the wardrobe area. He saunters towards the pole at the end of his stage with a smirk, winking at Jameson, and slams his hands downwards at the _uh-huh_. He keeps his pace, hips swinging enticingly, pausing to strike a pose with both arms on the back of his head at the _uh_.

_Saying what you going to do to me (uh-huh)_

_But I ain't seen nothing (uh)_

Jason's face immediately turns red when Dick winks saucily. He bends over slowly, letting them see down his slightly unzipped suit before straightening, sauntering back towards the kicked-over chair.

_I'm telling you loosen up my buttons, baby (uh-huh)_

_But you keep fronting (uh)_

_Saying what you going to do to me (uh-huh)_

_But I ain't seen nothing (uh)_

Stray drops down near the middle of his stage, grinding down before popping back at the _uh_. Moving his arms across his body to the tempo to draw the crowd’s eyes onto his body. He winks at his target this time as he dips towards the floor again, arching his back and spinning lightly when he straightens again.

_Typical_

_Hardly the type I fall for_

_I like when the physical_

_Don't leave me asking for more_

_I'm a sexy mama (mama)_

Stray grabs his hair with both hands, letting the movement flow fluidly into a body roll as his hips move. He drops down, touching the floor with both hands before stretching forward slowly, moving his legs into a v once he’s in a full handstand.

_Who knows just how to get what I want and (want and)_

Dick feels more than he sees Jason’s stare as he bends back into a standing position and blows the crowd a kiss. It’s hot, and he saunters back up to the pole with practiced confidence, arching his body towards it to the beat.

_What I want to do is spring this on you (on you)_

_Back up all of the things that I told you (told you)_

He wraps his right leg around the pole as he leans back towards the crowd, spinning out of it as soon as the beat shifts. Stray hazards a look at Jameson, who seems entranced, and Jason, who looks both confused and turned on.

“Time to turn up the heat, Grayson,” he mutters to himself, drowning out the cheers as he climbs the pole.

_You been saying all the right things all night long_

_But I can't seem to get you over here to help take this off_

He flips upside down, keeping his movements fluid and graceful as he moves his entire body, hips shifting each time he kicks out or swings, and when he hears the first shout of ‘ _take it off!’_ he smirks at the crowd, legs clinging tight to pole to hold him as he hangs upside down.

_Baby, can't you see_

_How these clothes are fitting on me_

He unzips his suit slowly, letting his body roll to the beat. It feels natural, the same way flipping does, and as the suit top comes off completely, he throws it to Jason. Wally catches it with a grin, and he winks back, swinging back around, just for fun.

_And the heat coming from this beat?_

_I'm about to blow_

_I don't think you know_

_I'm telling you loosen up my buttons, baby (uh-huh)_

_But you keep fronting (uh)_

He drops off the pole entirely into the splits, rolling to the side and stretching out, making sure the crowd gets a good view of his assets. Or ass. Technically, they’re one in the same.

It’s almost too easy, and he stands up to pull his whip out. He’s bored, and honestly, it’s only been one verse. Why not mix things up?

_Saying what you going to do to me (uh-huh)_

_But I ain't seen nothing (uh)_

He spins it around him as he walks towards the edge of the stage, only hesitating a moment before jumping towards his friends, smirking.

_I'm telling you loosen up my buttons, baby (uh-huh)_

_But you keep fronting (uh)_

Wally smirks when Dick approaches him, letting Dick box him in and pull him up from the chair.

He puts his ass directly against Wally’s hips, guiding his friend’s hands to his waist when Wally hesitates. Stray grins, mouthing the words at to Jason as he grinds against Wally’s eager… _friend_ , already hard against him.

_Saying what you going to do to me (uh-huh)_

_But I ain't seen nothing (uh)_

He pulls away from Wally, leaving him disoriented, and wraps his whip around Jason tightly, straddling his waist and arching back to the music as he bends, nearly touching the floor before snapping back up.

“Pretty Bird…” Jason murmurs, breath hot against Dick’s bare chest. He’s burning with desire at this point, trembling, so he grinds down rough, nearly moaning at the contact. Jason’s eyelids flutter shut, so Dick grabs him by the collar, pulling him closer. He’s still fluid, and even with Jason’s lap full of him, he feels distant, like it’s not enough.

_You say you're a big boy_

_But I can't agree_

_'Cause the love you said you had_

_Ain't been put on me_

“You came here to have fun, right?” He asks, fisting his other hand in Jason’s hair as Jason’s fingers tighten on his ass.

The crowd’s still cheering, loud and distant all at once, because he feels like he and Jason are alone, and perhaps that’s why he’s acting so recklessly, so _stupidly_. Selina had taught him better than this, _Harley_ had taught him better than this. Ivy, frankly, would feed him to her garden if she saw him.

Hell, half of the people he knows taught him better.

_I wonder_

_If I'm just too much for you_

_Wonder_

Stray doesn’t make the first move, he _never_ does. He’s fucked too many people to do something as weak as that, to leave himself open for rejection the way Selina did with Bruce, to leave himself open for pain the way Harley did with Joker. He'd learned well enough the first time what openness does.

But Jason has this dazed look in his eyes, this torch he seems to ignite in Dick’s body, and something in Dick aches, something in Dick makes him lean in closer, still shifting, still arcing and moving…

_If my kiss don't make you just_

_Wonder_

He kisses Jason roughly, biting down on his lip when Jason stiffens. It’s not soft, it’s not loving – it’s hard and violent, and he tastes Jason’s blood on his tongue as he withdraws without leaving Jason an opportunity to react. He schools his features back into indifference, withdrawing from Jason’s warmth and temptation as fast as he’d pulled it in.

He can’t leave himself open, he _won’t_. He’s an idiot, and he needs to focus, and it doesn’t _matter_ how hot Jason is, how… in _lust_ Stray is with him…

He can’t.

_What I got next for you_

_What you want to do? (do)_

_Take a chance to recognize that this could be yours_

_I can see, just like most guys that your game don't please_

_Baby, can't you see_

_How these clothes are fitting on me_

Jameson smiles at Dick when he dances his way over, and he doesn’t look back at Jason when the man requests a private room. He doesn’t look back at Jason when the mobster grabs his ass and the music is replaced by another song, even if he can feel Jason’s eyes like a guillotine on his throat.

Even when he leaves with the information he wanted, his informant unconscious and drugged in the room behind him, it’s _Wally_ who licks his mouth open that night. It’s _Wally_ who he fucks, and who he lets fuck him.

And the next morning, when the alcohol-induced headache stings and Wally wakes up, they both know it means nothing.

It never does.

* * *

*

**Past - Age 10**

*

“Why do you and Bruce fight so much if you love him?” a ten-year-old Dick Grayson asks Selina as she does his eyeliner. Her hand slips, shaking slightly, and a black streak appears across Dick’s face.

“Shit,” she curses softly, “Red, can you pass the makeup wipes please?”

Ivy tosses her the requested item without looking, fixated on the tiny diamonds she’s painting on Harley’s nails. Harley loves them, if her grin is anything to go off of.

“Sorry Dickie,” Selina murmurs as he winces, wipe rough and harsh against his skin. He squints when she licks her thumb and rubs at the mark a little more.

“Stop it!”’ He protests, slapping her hand away, and she smiles softly.

“Never!”

And she presses a kiss to his forehead before throwing the makeup wipe onto their discarded pile of used wipes from failed ‘looks’. Dick had argued that blue eyeshadow was a _look_ , and Selina had nearly killed him. She despises blue eyeshadow.

She’s still shaking a little when she settles in front of him again, liquid eyeliner poised like a paintbrush in her right hand.

“What did you ask me again, kitten?”

Harley and Ivy glance over from the couch they’re spread across, and Isis brushes against Dick’s bare leg, stopping to rub slightly. She purrs as he pets her, Selina watching fondly.

“I asked you, ‘Why do you and Batman fight so much if you love him?’”

Harley snorts, waving her hand in dismissal.

“Oh, _I_ coulda told ya that one, kit-kat. It’s ‘cause kitty likes the thrill, and Bats likes the rules. He won’t accept her as she is, only likes the parts of her that fit his dumb code.”

Selina releases a deep sigh, not disagreeing with Harley.

“Bats…is an incredible man, the best I’ve ever met besides Alfred, but… he has his flaws.”

“That’s an understatement,” Ivy mutters, and louder, “Batman only sees the world in his black-and-white morality, and he looks down at the grey areas that contradict his worldview. He doesn’t understand that some people are too far gone to redeem. He may be a ‘good man’, but he’s blind in many ways.”

Dick nods, processing.

“But he loves you,” He says to Selina, thinking of the softness he’d seen from the quote-on-quote ‘Scariest Vigilante’ ( _Alfred_ was scarier, in his well-informed opinion) when he looked at his mom, the way his eyes shone and the weight he seemed to carry lessened. “Right?”

“Batman… cares for me, I know he does, but he only has room for one girl in his heart, and she'll always be Gotham.”

Dick thinks of the way she chases him, the desperate way they came together, sometimes, passion and anger warring as they dueled, breaking up and making up every other night.

“Why do you chase him then?"

Selina looks down at her clasped hands, smile small and painful.

“I love him, and I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone the way I love him.”

“We all do crazy things for a man we shouldn’ love, kit-kat,” Harley adds, draping one arm around Stray’s shoulders and one around Selina’s. She pulls them both in for a brief hug, smiling.

“Let me tell ya somethin’ Dickie, men ain’t worth chasin’. Not ever. Joker… Joker was the most interesting man I’d ever known…” She trails off with a dazed look in her eyes, shaking it off when Ivy joins them and squeezes Harley’s shoulder lightly. “He was everything I couldn’ be, completely uncontrolled and uncaring of everythin’. I’d worked my ass off to get my Ph.D., worked my ass off to get where I did with gymnastics, and I had everythin’ planned out to a _t_. It was perfect order, and he was chaos, and he drew me in and spit me out in one breath.”

Harley’s eyes blink back tears, and Dick curls himself in her lap, offering support. Her voice is softer when she continues.

“He didn’ care about me, not for one second. I was in love, and to him, I was a fun distraction. A little side project to killing Bats. He didn’ even care enough to kill me when he dumped me, ya know? He shot me off in a half-assed rocket and didn’ bother ta check if I died or not. Even when I came back with Ivy, he just seemed bored…”

Ivy sighs, drawing Dick and Selina’s eyes.

“If we’re doing sharing circle, I might as well add to it. Dick, do you know how I got my powers?”

"No," He replies.

He’s always respected Ivy too much to look through Batman’s files, and he’d honestly assumed she’d been born with them, or something.

“Well, back in Seattle – that’s where I grew up, by the way – I was working towards a degree in biochemistry, with a concentration in botanical biochemistry. I had this… natural affinity for plants, a connection with them I’d been born with. One of my professors was a man named Dr. Jason Woodrue, a brilliant man I’d been honored to work with, and he… I was… _vulnerable_ to his manipulations and charms. He injected me with a lethal plant-based poison for some sick experiment and left me to die after the first date. I nearly _did_ die, and I went insane for quite a while.”

She shakes her head, laughing bitterly.

“I tried to go back, to finish my degree, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t trust anyone with how badly I’d been betrayed, and the plants called to me like a messiah, like _I_ could save them. The choice to leave the normal life I’d made for myself was an easy one, and everything just spiraled from there. I’m not so narrowminded as to believe all men are toxic, manipulative, poisoners of Earth, but so many are.”

Harley squeezes Ivy’s hand with a tear-stained smile, eyes swimming with ghosts as she looks to Stray.

“Listen close, kit-kat, never leave yourself open like I did – like _we_ did. Men… men will prey on that weakness, that _vulnerability_ , and you’ll be left chasin’ after a man who doesn’t care and a relationship that ain’t ever gonna go anywhere. Don’t be like us. Be better. They don’t always mean to hurt you, but they will. Love means pain.”

*


	2. hurt people just hurt people (cause my heart is the hardest to break)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then why are you here?” Dick asks, forced nonchalance straining the edges of his smile.
> 
> He hates this. He hates this so much.
> 
> “You’ve been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Hell, you’ve been avoiding everyone and I don’t know why.”
> 
> Dick frowns, cursing Donna’s insightfulness and Roy’s Roy-ness. He pops open the cap of his water bottle and lets the cool liquid flow down his scratchy throat. He’s still a little hoarse from screaming himself awake, earlier, and Selina’s busy on a business trip.
> 
> “Any chance my abs are going to distract you from that topic of conversation?” He asks half-heartedly, posing in his shirtless glory.
> 
> Jason blushes, but he doesn’t budge.
> 
> “Worth a shot,” Dick mutters with a shrug, breezing past Cardinal with an air of indifference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, before I get into the cheesy part of this author's note, double check the tags! There's going to be some implied/referenced rape for Dick's first time (aka Catalina Flores is still a piece of garbage in this AU) and there's some new relationship tags and other stuff. There's also referenced underage sex? But that's a given at this point with this AU. Stray's more... risque behavior will be a bit more understandable after this chapter, and I'm going to start writing other one-shots for the series going into his relationships with side characters (Like Royboy is getting a side-plot and story, so...) and just interactions I can't feasibly fit in the plot I already have planned in my head. So, protect yourself, I suppose?  
> Also! I am not Romani, but from several first-hand accounts I've read online from people of Romani descent, tea-leaf readings are something some families do, but it's less mystical than stereotypes say. I definitely wanted to incorporate this as an important part of Dick's culture and home life, and he'll explain it himself, but any errors in tea-leaf reading are because I am not an expert. I did some research, but I don't do readings so... might not be accurate.
> 
> Okay, now for some sappy:
> 
> Still betaed by the wonderful dbakeiro, but this chapter is a new version they have not checked over, so errors are my own stupidity lol.  
> nightwingvixen23 is my biggest cheerleader next to dbakeiro, so this one is for you!
> 
> And beyond that, I just appreciate every single comment and kudo on this godforsaken self-indulgent fic I somehow wrote.  
> Enjoy the tone-shifts ;)
> 
> Edit (12/06/2020): okay so this chapter has been fixed as well! The man Dick seduces in chp one got a name because having to read target 11 times in that chapter drove me crazy, so now he's Jefferson. Also got a bunch of typos which is always fun, and edited the style like I did for chp 1. Third chapter will be fixed later on, once my college semester is over!

*

**Now**

*

He doesn’t talk to Jason for a few weeks after that, with or without the mask. It’s so much easier to avoid him, to pretend he _hadn’t_ been close enough to touch, to _taste,_ that it’s the only thing he does. He stays home from Gotham Academy on the off-chance Jason might find him in between classes like he sometimes does, avoids high profile robberies the Dynamic Duo might bust, and foregoes the patrols he sometimes does in Crime Alley entirely. Crime Alley is Jason's territory, the area Cardinal goes to whenever Bruce lets him, and Dick’s new form of self-care is the avoidance of all things Jason.

There are a few near misses when Jason hangs out with the Titans around the same time Dick does, but Donna manages to sneak him out before Cardinal can see him. He isn't an everyday member anyway, even if they consider him team leader when he _does_ join on random missions. The Titans are less a team and more a group of friends, a group that treats Dick like the ringleader, and in his absence, Donna. They all see each other every week typically, and Cardinal had been a recent addition.

Avoiding Jason is also a lot easier with the new team that Dick’s accidentally created (to Donna’s extreme displeasure), a team that is more morally grey than the Titans. The Gotham Vixens (the name had _not_ been his idea) are composed of his more _villainous_ friends he’d been collected by (seriously, he hadn't been offered a choice, they imprinted on him like baby ducklings).

Rachel Roth is an empath he’d saved when he’d accidentally stumbled upon a meta-trafficking ring under Black Mask’s jurisdiction (and _fuck_ that guy, he seriously thinks throwing money at Stray and threatening Selina is going to make him let Sionis’s wrinkly dick within ten feet of him). She’s more black-magic than white-magic, so he'd neglected to inform Zatanna or any of the League about her, and she’s attached to him, so he'd set her up in one of his safe-houses (which Selina still pouts over, she'd loved having a daughter for the week Raven stayed with them).

Tara Markov had tried to kill him, on Black Ass’s orders, until Dick had paid her exactly ten cents more than Sionis had and took her to coffee. They'd been fast friends, and the best part had been the recording one of his connections close to Black Mask sent him when Sionis found out. Few things trump that video.

And _that_ isn't even going into Caitlin Snow, who’d befriended him for the sole purpose of spiting Wally ( _which is part of why he loves her, if he’s honest, pettiness is a trait he adores_ ), or Komand’r, whose sole purpose in life, beyond feeling him up, seems to be half-heartedly attempting to kill her sister, Koriand’r. And Dick _knows_ they’re half-hearted because the red-head bubble-pop princess is still alive and flirting with Jason, who she'd kissed to learn English ( _psh, likely excuse, Donna had been right next to Jason, but of course the pretty princess had gone for **his** …_) which is _fine_ because it’s not like him and Kom hadn't kissed too, but it hadn't been anywhere _near_ as long, because _Kom_ respects public _decency_ … ( _And that’s a lie, Dick **knows** that’s a lie because she’s crashed Titans nights before, and she and Dick are a **dangerous** mix of reckless and horny when drunk_).

But it’s fine, really. So long as _Starfire_ stays off the Titan's unofficially official roster, Stray doesn’t need to claw her stupid green eyes out. It’s not like he’s there when they hang out with her, Donna had learned better after Kom kept bailing him out and helping him sneak away. It’s an unspoken thing, a truce, of sorts. Which is nice, because Dick’s pretty sure Jason hasn’t picked up on it yet. Stray gives off enough mixed signals as is, so Jason will probably ignore it regardless.

It’s a relief to leave the Titans and go back to stealing, sometimes. The rush is more than worth it, and the company isn’t half bad. Komand’r herself is a riot, unlike her sister, and Rachel, Tara, and Caitlin _know_ how to have an illegally good time. He’s lost count of how many mansions they’ve broken into for fun, or how many weapons shipments they’ve stolen for themselves right under Black Mask’s oily, over-sized nose. It’s a great avoidance tactic for Titans-stuff too when he doesn’t feel like talking about his problems. He loves Wally and Roy and Donna, but they don’t leave things alone. The Vixens do, and it’s so _easy_ with them, and he’s kind of been with them in and out of Gotham for the last three days, so it comes as no surprise when Donna tells Dick that he’s going to be at his place with Selina when she comes over next. He’s kind of good at ignoring his friends sometimes, but Donna’s never let his bullshit stand for too long.

Roy takes a more passive-aggressive stance, texting him random things like, ‘ _Kory and Jay seem pretty close, huh? Wonder if they’re going to make a go of it…’_ and ‘ _Y’know, Kory seems like she’d make a good member of our team. If you’re too busy maybe we’ll add her…’_ and ‘ _Is it that time of the month or are you just channeling Bruce?’_ but after Dick’s first week of quarantine from Jason-exposure Roy had broken down and called until Stray answered, screaming at him for what felt like hours before hanging up.

 _You can’t avoid him forever, Wonder Boy,_ Roy texts him the following day, as though he hadn’t yelled at Dick until his throat was hoarse. He snorts at the nickname – Roy and Wally claim Dick and Donna are wonder twins separated at birth because they’re _always_ together or texting – but frowns at Roy’s implication.

He can totally avoid Jason Todd-Wayne forever if he wants to, he can avoid _anyone_ forever if he puts his mind to it (excluding Alfred, Alfred deserves better than that).

Roy doesn’t need to know that, however, he doesn't even need to know that Dick really _is_ avoiding Jason. Where’s the evidence? Dick doesn’t see any, because there _isn’t any._

So Dick makes the obvious choice, and responds by lying through his teeth:

 _I'm_ _not avoiding anyone. Who do you think I’m avoiding?_

But he is, oh he _definitely_ is, because he is not down for feelings, not when he’s been through the highs and lows of those with his mom and her on-again, off-again relationship with Brucie-boy. She loves him, and he loves her, but they constantly hurt each other, fighting and arguing and breaking each other to pieces before reuniting and inevitably colliding together again just as violently as before. It’s a vicious cycle, one he doesn’t need to inherit by chasing after a Bat. And that’s not even bringing up Harley and Joker’s mess of a relationship, which has enough pain in it to warn him away from relationships entirely, or Ivy and her disdain for humans, primarily men.

After all, it’s one thing to _fuck_ someone, to _want_ someone (he’s done that song and dance enough to not care); it’s another thing entirely to actually _feel_ things. Lust is only human – instinctive, basic, and primal – but things like (romantic) _love_ are avoidable entirely, a sign of weakness when present.

He’s good with platonic love, thank you very much.

His phone dings loudly as Donna rings the doorbell.

 _Don’t pull that dumb shit with me,_ Roy responds as Dick opens the apartment door for Donna, _I know you better than that. And you’re avoiding Jason. The dude’s not stupid, you dick. He can tell, and he has no clue what he did wrong. Your bipolar ass does not help his confusion at all._

Dick groans out loud, slapping a hand over his face.

“Dick, what’s wrong?” Donna asks, peeking over his shoulder to read the texts. “Oh, _that_.”

“ _’_ _That’_?” Dick asks, turning to look at her. “What was that tone?”

She rolls her eyes, plopping on the couch and patting the spot next to her. Dick sits next to her, and Donna throws her legs across his lap the way she usually does.

“Dick, you literally gave Jason a lap dance, kissed him without letting him process the first thing, took off before he could do anything about _either_ thing and then had sex with Wally, who is friends with _both of you_.”

When you put it like _that_ …

“So? I’ve slept with Wally _loads_ of times. Hell, I’ve slept with Roy too, even if I haven’t in a year or two.”

“That’s because he and I were dating, remember?” Donna reminds him, eyes still steely. She softens when Dick’s hands rub at her calves, sore as they usually are, it always makes her melt. It's something he's taken advantage of enough times to know well.

“Oh right! Roy was _such_ a good fuck too, the things I give up for you, Don, I swear.”

“Yes, Roy’s a great fuck buddy. Can we get back to Jason?”

Dick pouts, knowing it never seems to work on Donna. She’s built up an immunity from over-exposure, and Dick curses his past self-more and more each time his beauty fails to sway her to his side.

“No need to get jealous, my other half, you were always welcome to join!”

She glares at him, and he sighs, pushing her legs off him to sprawl across her in turn. His head lands in her lap, making her smirk.

“I hate you,” he mutters into the soft fabric of her sweats she’d stolen from him (and _he_ gets the rep as the clothing thief, just because he has a hoodie from every member of the Titans, when Donna loves stealing his _entire_ wardrobe). At this point, all of his clothes have a whiff of vanilla to them – just a hint of Donna’s favorite perfume Dick bought her two years ago that _won’t wash off_.

“No you _looove me_ ,” she practically sings, carding a hand through his soft hair. “And because you do, you know you can talk to me about this. Dick, I’ve been covering for you, but Jason isn’t blind. He notices when someone’s avoiding him.”

“Okay, _Roy_. And besides, I’m sure _Kori_ has him distracted well enough.”

Donna rolls her eyes, ignoring his petty jealousy.

“As much as I hate to say it, Roy has a point. You’re giving the poor boy whiplash, and if you make that into a _pun_ I will –”

Dick grins into her lap.

“What? Choke me with your magic lasso? Why _Wonder Girl_ , I never knew you were so _kinky_ ~!”

She smacks the back of his head lightly, but it still stings. Having a superpowered best friend almost as tactile as you can be a bitch sometimes. Dick rubs at the injury, glaring at her.

“Don’t change the subject,” she replies sweetly, smile as fake as Vicki Vale’s new breasts.

“ _Fiiiine_. What do you want me to say? He’s a _B_ _at_ , which means it’s a bad idea. He’s fifteen, which is about to be a non-issue in like a month, but it’s an issue at the moment. He’s…”

“Oh,” Donna interrupts, wide crystal blue eyes seeming to peer into his soul when she looks at him, “You _like-like_ him. Is that what you’re afraid of? The whole Bats and Cats cycle Selina and Bruce are stuck in?”

He stretches out, rolling back over so he doesn’t have to look at Donna.

“I hate that you know me so well.”

He feels more than he sees her shrug, and he’s sure she has that fond grin she always looked at him with when he did something _~~or someone~~_ dumb on her face.

“Perks of being your ‘Wonder Twin’, little brother.”

“ _We are the same age_ ,.” He mutters murderously, affronted. It’s an old argument, one Donna loves bringing out every time he does something she thinks is dumb.

“You have the mental age of a toddler going ‘ _oooh shiny!’_ only with people AND objects instead of just objects.”

“I resent that.”

She boops his nose, still grinning.

“As you should, Stray.”

He groans.

“I just… Harley and Ivy and Selina are all shining examples of why opening yourself up sucks. I’ve never had to initiate before because that would mean opening myself up for rejection. And even if Jason and I date, or whatever, who's to say it won’t end up the way Bruce and Selina always end up? On-again, off-again misery, and pain, an endless cycle all because of some stupid feelings. And you _know_ how that whole mess with Catalina went down…”

“Dick…”

He accepts her hug, leaning into her arms and wrapping his own around her waist.

“It’s not healthy to close yourself off like this, Dickie. What are you going to do if someone else snatches Jay up while you’re too scared to make a move?”

Dick tenses.

“I’ll deal, Donna. I can’t… I’m not the relationship type, and I’d rather just stick with friendship if fucking him requires strings.”

She sighs.

“I can’t make you do anything, but I really think you should just talk with Jason.”

“Me? Talk? Feelings?” He elbows her lightly. “That’s what you are for, my gorgeous twin. Who needs Jason?”

She grins, and if he holds her extra close when they cuddle to watch movies, she doesn’t comment on it. He likes to think it’s comforting for both of them. They both tend to hold problems close to their hearts, and he may not know what happened between her and Roy at all, but he knows it hurt both of them pretty badly. Roy refuses to talk about it, and Donna always gets this sad, faraway look in her eyes when Dick asks. Dick’s learned to stop asking, offering her comfort with his clothes and his hugs instead.

“I love you, Don,” He says, kissing her cheek lightly. She squeezes his hand, looking at him fondly.

“I love you too, but don’t think I’m dropping the Jason thing.”

Dick groans.

“We were having a _moment_ , Donna! And you ruined it!”

She raises a brow.

“I mean, we could talk about that time you got so drunk you made out with Komand’r. You know, Kori’s murderous older sister?”

“Kom is cool, and she hasn’t tried to kill Koriand’r in, what, a year?”

Donna’s eyes narrow on him.

“A month, and Kom? Familiar much?”

Dick scoffs.

“Like you and _Kori_ aren’t already besties. Besides, you’ve known about the Vixens for months, remember? Kom’s crashed several of our hangouts.”

Donna flushes.

“That’s different. The Vixens are your outlet, and I get that, but you only like Komand’r more than Kori cause she–"

“Kissed me? That’s not the only reason I like her, you know. But of course, she isn’t some pretty pink princess, so I can understand why you might not like her.”

“ _Dick_ —”

“What?” He snaps, pulling away from her completely. “Am I not allowed to not like people? Guess what, I _don’t_ like her. I _dis_ like her, and my opinion isn’t going to change.”

Donna exhales shakily, trying to calm herself.

“Maybe if you just got to know her better, you’d see—”

“I’d see what? That she’s friendly? All bubbly and perfect? I see it and I _don’t care_. Kom is honest with her own darkness, she’s upfront. Koriand’r is just a mask, and I don’t care to find out who she is without the act.”

“You’re only acting like this because she kissed—”

“Oh _fuck you_ for bringing that up.”

But Donna’s never been the type to back down, even when Dick’s temper rears its ugly head.

“But it’s true, isn’t it? You don’t like her because she’s into Jason and doesn’t _care_ if he knows. She's a threat to you, and that’s your real issue with her.”

Dick scoffs.

“ _Please_.”

Donna’s back straightens, and she stares at him unflinchingly.

“I’m right. I _know_ I’m right, but you never seem to want to talk about the fact that you’re _in love with Jason_ and won’t admit it! Maybe your issue is that you won’t _let him_ love you back!”

Dick stares at her, taking in everything she said. The anger seems to evaporate, quickly replaced by memories of his first fumbling night; drugged drinks and jasmine laced perfume and a cinnamon taint burning his tongue as an older woman’s hands take what they want.

“Last time I tried that, Don, I got _raped_. So forgive me for my hesitancy.”

She doesn’t stop him when he jumps off his balcony, and he doesn’t stop when she calls his name.

* * *

*  
**Past - Age 15**

*

“Good afternoon, Master Dick. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Alfred greets, opening the doors of Wayne Manor to a fifteen-year-old Dick without hesitation.

It’s not their typical day for tea, but he knows from Selina that Bruce is out of town and Alfred was alone at the mansion Batman called home. He’s finally found something special he’s wanted to share with Alfred since their first tea session, years ago, when Bruce and Selina’s reunion had driven him to call a cab to Wayne Manor and politely ask Alfred to take his man-child back. Alfred hadn’t, but his company had been enough for Dick to be semi-okay with Bruce.

Dick takes his shoes off as soon as he enters, hugging Alfred rather than taking the man’s outstretched hand.

“Can’t I just see my favorite British butler without an excuse?” He teases, and Alfred only pauses for a moment before returning his embrace.

“Of course you can, you know you are welcome here at any time. And I would _have_ to be your favorite British butler, young sir. I’m the only butler you know.”

“That’s what _you_ think.”

Alfred chuckles.

“Indeed. Shall I prepare the tea? Our typical blend?”

Dick flushes, pulling out a package from his bag nervously.

“Actually, I brought a blend my Daj used to make at the circus. We’d sit as a family and drink it, talk about our day and just enjoy each other’s company. I…”

He pauses, looking down.

“I’d love to share it with you since I love our teatime too.”

Dick looks up when Alfred rests a hand on his shoulder. Alfred’s beaming, a kind understanding crossing his features. He looks… touched.

“I would be honored, Master Dick. Nothing would make me happier.”

Dick beams back, handing him the blend and following Alfred into the Manor’s giant kitchen. He’s been in here loads of times, but it always amazes him how huge it is. The kitchen island looks the size of his family’s trailer back at the circus.

He moves next to Alfred as the older sets the kettle to boil, pulling out a plastic bag full of the other ingredients Daj normally used.

“Daj also added a bit of blackberry jam and a few orange slices to our tea, so she could do tea readings. She says her mom taught her, and she taught me.”

Alfred smiles again.

“Could you tell me how your mother did it, young sir?”

So Dick explains, and they peel the orange together, washing it and adding few slices along with the tea leaves to the now boiled water.

“Don’t forget the jam!” He adds, handing Alfred the glass jar. “Two teaspoons!”

Alfred adds them delicately, stirring each ingredient in turn to their blend. It smells… delicious, like a warm trailer after a long day of training… Like _home_ …

Alfred serves the tea in the two small white and gold teacups they always used, adding three sugar cubes for Dick and one for himself.

“Thank you, Alfie,” Dick murmurs, sipping lightly on his tea. It _tastes_ like home, too.

“It is my pleasure, Master Dick. I do enjoy having another person around to talk to about something other than Gotham’s nightlife.”

Dick chuckles.

“And this is quite an exquisite blend, you will have to leave me with the address of where you purchased it from so I might keep it in stock for future visits, or even for my own use.”

“I will! I actually bought two bags, so you can keep the one I brought today!”

Alfred hums into his tea.

“Thank you, Master Dick. That is incredibly thoughtful of you. How is Gotham Academy treating you, and how is Miss Kyle?”

Dick shrugs, sitting next to Alfred at the countertop. The chair is tall enough that his legs dangle from the top, and he feels younger than he is. It’s… reassuring, Alfred’s steady presence always is, especially with his sixteenth birthday nearing and, not long after that, the anniversary of his parents’ deaths. It’ll mark eight years without them, and eight years with Selina. He’ll have lived without them just as long as he’d lived with them, and as much as he loves Selina, it’s a somber thought.

“It’s alright. I’m ahead in all my classes, and I really enjoy Calculus. The principal keeps trying to talk me into joining a few clubs, but I just don’t have the time. Selina’s good too, we’re keeping an eye on Mad Hatter right now, because there have been some rumblings Bruce heard of him teaming up with Joker. One psycho at a time is more than enough for anyone.”

“I concur, Tetch and the Joker’s individual plots are troublesome enough. I’d hate to think of the kind of chaos they could achieve together.”

Dick thinks of the Joker’s last team-up with Crane.

Selina and Bruce had been in the on-again phase of their cycle, so Dick had spent the night alternating between uncontrollable laughter and gut-wrenching screams. It had not been a fun time, and he still dreams of what he’d seen on bad nights…

“ _You couldn’t save your parents, kitten, and now you can’t save me?”_

_Selina doesn’t scream as she falls, she doesn’t even call his name like his parents had. She just stares, dead-eyed and lifeless, a single tear trailing down her cheek. It’s worse… the acceptance on her face, something he’d never seen when something challenged her._

_It’s her face he thinks of when he trains, when he pushes himself to his limits with Bruce until Bruce sweats just as much as him, until they’re both bruised and burning with anger._

He shivers.

“Yeah, that’s Selina’s thoughts. Better safe than sorry and all that.”

Alfred nods, noticing his tension and smoothly switching topics.

“Why don’t you join the math team? Or perhaps the computer science team? It could be useful to socialize with others your age, outside of your mask.”

Dick blows his bangs out of his eyes.

“I’m just… what if Selina needs me, and I’m not there? What if…”

_What if she dies and I can’t save her, like with my parents? What if I’m not enough, and I’m so distracted that I fail her?_

That’s what Crane’s fear toxin preyed on, after all. His fear of failing the ones he loved. His fear of not being able to protect them, to save them. His fear of not catching them.

Alfred’s hand squeezes his shoulder gently, setting his tea saucer on the counter.

“Not even Batman can be everywhere at once, young sir. We all have our limitations, and it does not mean we are at fault for them. Miss Kyle is capable, and she would be happy to have you join a club. I believe she worries for you. I have overheard her and Master Bruce on more than one occasion.”

Dick snorts.

“Oh, I’ve _overheard them_ plenty. Those headphones are a blessing, except for when I fall asleep without them.”

Alfred smiles.

“Shall I pour us more tea?”

Dick stops Alfred from grabbing his cup, thinking of his Daj’s lessons.

“Well, I have one more thing I want to show you, actually. My Daj learned how to read tea leaves from my grandma I never met, and I figured I could show you too."

“Are you sure it isn’t something you’d rather share with Miss Kyle? It seems very personal.”

Dick grins.

“You _are_ my family, Alfred. Even if I refuse to accept Bruce as a mentor-figure, you are important to me. This is a part of me, and I want to share it.”

Alfred straightens, eyes twinkling with wonder.

“Very well. How does one read these tea leaves?”

Dick grins, holding his cup up in his left hand.

“You lift your cup and hold it for a moment. You’re supposed to think of a question you want guidance on or something you’re curious about.”

_What does my future hold?_

“Next, you swirl it three times in a counter-clockwise direction, inverting the cup on the saucer afterward. I’ll help you clean up, but the cups are mostly empty so there shouldn’t be a mess.”

Alfred does as instructed, following Dick. They both right their cups once the liquid has drained away.

“Now we swap cups and look for symbols or shapes. The stuff we read should form some sort of story, and the distance from the teacup handle will tell us where to place the symbol in time. The handle represents the present, or the drinker so to speak, and the opposite end of the cup represents the future, or distant problems. The story the leaves tell should either answer your question or offer guidance.”

Alfred nods, sliding the teacup to him. Dick doesn’t glance at his before he passes it over, eager to read Alfred’s. He hasn’t done this in years, since he'd showed a curious Donna how to during a sleepover.

Alfred’s cup is speckled with black dots, as expected, but Dick can already see some shapes sprinkled throughout. He tries to determine which one is the biggest and settles on what appears to be a boat near the handle.

He frowns. A visit from a friend, or possibly a journey?

He turns to a lumpy deformed candle in the center of the cup, indicating enlightenment of some sort. Maybe newfound knowledge on how to tame Bruce? Dick would kill for that.

Dick looks to the outskirts of the cup, where little circular lumps with wings are scattered throughout the ‘present’ and ‘future’ areas. Birds. Good luck, and next to the farthest one, a cross. Trouble, delay, or death.

Dick’s frown deepens.

It looks like a visit from a friend, or some sort of journey, would bring him knowledge, and possibly luck, but that luck would also come with trouble or death?

And then there are the positions of the birds, small and scattered throughout. Does that mean Alfred’s luck would persist, or that something in the present would bring him luck in the future?

“Master Dick? Have you found my fortune?” Alfred asks with a hint of humor, and Dick laughs nervously. The position of the cross feels… _ominous_ , somehow, even next to the birds.

“Yep. Looks like a visit from a friend is going to bring about some new knowledge and good luck, but trouble is on the horizon.”

Alfred chuckles.

“Trouble is always on the horizon, and I can only see an owl in your teacup.”

 _What does my future hold?_ He’d asked the leaves.

He pulls his cup in close, seeing the owl’s beady eyes staring up at him from the center of the cup, seeming to consume the round lines around it. Worms, he thinks they look like.

Sickness, poverty, a warning of betrayal and danger, next to the symbols for secret enemies.

He drops the cup, numb as it shatters on the tile floor, black beady eyes staring back at him.

“Master Dick!” Alfred exclaims, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Dick replies, still staring at the broken teacup on the floor, thinking of the cross in Alfred’s cup. “I’m all good.”

Something is wrong… or something _will_ be wrong.

He can feel it.

“What…what does that look like to you?” He asks Alfred, pointing into the older man’s teacup where the birds and cross sat.

Alfred furrows his brow, examining the tea clumps carefully.

“It looks… why, it looks like a robin pinned on a cross.”

* * *

*

**Now**

*

Kom’s already at the safe house he’s been staying at for the last few days when he arrives, lounged in his chair like she owns it. There’s a confidence in her posture - an elegance - and maybe it’s the royalty in her, but she looks like she belongs here more than Dick does.

“So star-spangled-panties ream your ass enough to be satisfied?” She asks without looking at him. Her solid green eyes are focused entirely on the cell phone he’d bought her last month. She loves the thing, even if she refuses to say so.

Dick grins tiredly, unzipping his suit as he walks towards his bedroom. He’s still angry, but there’s some semblance of guilt for how he treated Donna simmering beneath it. He knows he'll feel the full effects of that guilt later, but for now, everything else is enough to bury it. The _anger_ and just fucking annoyance is enough to push it aside.

“Yeah, she…did.”

That makes Kom look up, eyes narrowing on him as she sits straight.

“Stop smiling, you look insipid. You are very clearly not happy, so I don’t know why you insist on doing it.”

Dick drops it with a sigh, rolling his shoulders as his suit falls to his waist. He’s got a few new bruises from a quick patrol, and a need to run off the memories that Donna’s conversation had evoked. Catalina’s been locked up for a year now, nearly two, it’s not like it should be affecting him anymore.

“Just… bad memories.”

“So, the flightless bird,” She replies with an eye roll, grabbing some bandages out of the first aid kit spread across the dining room table. Dick had been injured yesterday and hadn’t had the energy to clean it up. “He’s attractive, so I understand the appeal, but you could _literally_ have anyone.”

Her hands feel warm against his ribs as she places pressure on them, probably checking for cracks.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he mutters as she presses onto a particularly sensitive spot. “Kom, please try to not touch me like you’re going to kill me.”

She snorts, dipping three fingers into some salve thing Alfred gave him and rubbing it down his chest.

“Don’t be stupid and I won’t have to hurt you. Besides, you’d know if I _actually_ were trying to kill you.”

Dick winces as her fingers swipe over the bruises. He feels like an open sore, had patrol gone _that_ bad?

“That’s comforting, I suppose.”

She hums as she works, wrapping his ribs without hesitation or gentleness. It’s something he’s grown used to in the months he’s known her. She cares, but she’s cold about it. Makes it easier for her to deal with emotions after pretending to not have them for so long. Dick can empathize, even his version’s a bit different.

“So what did your ‘ _bestie’_ say? She mention the moon eyes you make at the bird every time you think he’s not looking?”

Stray rests his forehead on her shoulder, letting her finish bandaging the other wounds he hadn’t noticed.

“More like she brought up your sister.”

“Koriand’r?”

He can feel more than hear her surprise. Kom’s good at hiding her emotions, but her body always gives her away in subtle shifts. Her shoulders slump slightly, and that’s what betrays her.

“Why would she bring up Koriand’r?”

“Donna thinks I don’t like her because I’m jealous, or threatened, or whatever.”

Kom pauses.

“Sounds like the truth. You get this…” She gestures to her face. “Expression whenever Koriand’r looks at the bird. It’s very obvious. He’s not that intelligent for a hero if he doesn’t notice.”

Dick lifts his head to weakly glare at her, regretting it when his neck aches.

“I feel like I went through a meat grinder and became Solomon Grundy’s play toy.”

Kom smirks at him, like the bitch she is.

“It’s what happens when you play hero. You’re never this injured when you’re with us.”

“That’s because we don’t get _caught_.” He lets out another groan, and Kom helps him to his feet.

“Or because you aren’t as distracted.”

“Any chance of you dropping it if I bring up my sob story?”

Kom scoffs.

“I can empathize with your plights, Richard, but I’m not weak. A pout won’t make me stop.”

“Can I have a drink at least?” He asks, and she shakes her head. “Damnit.”

And, because this is his partner-in-literal-crime, she lifts him into a bridal carry towards his room, throwing him on the bed as gently as she can (that is to say, not at _all gentle_ ). She _loves_ adding insult to injury, or just injury to injury. Kom's not picky.

“Talk,” She commands more than asks because that’s how she is. It’s easy to forget considering how young she looks, but she'd controlled an entire planet as Queen while he'd just been stealing diamonds. Dick’s never asked, but he’s pretty sure time passes differently on Tamaran – faster – because the way she spoke of her reign made it sound like _decades_ instead of years, which should be impossible with how young she looks. Seventeen, eighteen at most.

“What’s there to say?” He asks, “I don’t love him. I don’t. I might get jealous, but that’s only because I haven’t gotten him out of my system yet. It’s like a disease, I just have to burn it out.”

Kom rolls her eyes.

“You’re full of shit, but nothing’s going to make you admit that. Do you want to call the Vixens over and plan our heist, or forget for a little bit?”

Her hand feels heavy with intent where it rests on his thigh.

It’s a choice, an important one, one Catalina never gave him.

“Forget,” He murmurs, brushing his lips against hers. “Make me forget.”

“I’m good at that,” She replies, kissing the breath out of him.

He doesn’t need to think, she keeps him more than occupied. His mind doesn’t have a chance to wander, and it’s part of why she’s his second-in-command. Sometimes, she knows what he needs more than he does. Sometimes, she knows him in ways Donna doesn’t, in ways Roy and Wally never have.

This is one of those times, and neither of them need words when they collide together.

* * *

The information from Jameson at the strip club pans out a week later, and Stray doesn’t tell anyone about the possible lead. The organization responsible for Haly’s death and his ass being bruised are allegedly feared across Gotham, known for being untraceable, with deep pockets, even if they appeared to be viewed as an urban legend by most.

“ _They watch from the shadows, man, I don’ know nothin’ more than that! Else they’d fuckin’ kill me!”_

The greasy gangster had been terrified, and the psychological profile he’d found on the Batcomputer (without Bruce’s consent, obviously) suggested that as out of character. He hadn’t given Stray the organization’s name, but he had given him the assassin’s – _Talon_.

And he believes his target because when he’d gone to interrogate him a bit more, he’d found the man dead.

Same story as Haly – ruled an accident, neat lacerations that matched the blade the assassin had used on Dick, and a single owl feather. It's all the evidence Dick needs to link them. Bruce doesn’t notice the connection, not with so many villains out of Arkham and Jason’s new-found habit of inciting fights with the racist population of Gotham Academy taking up the rest of his brain space. Dick would be helping, normally, but this case has him wound so tight he’s afraid he’ll be off-balance, not focused, and Joker or one of the hundreds of other villains in and out of Arkham’s revolving door would take advantage.

It doesn’t help that he’s been coordinating missions with the Titans in his spare time and ignoring the League’s calls for them to become an ‘official’ team under their supervision. The last time Superman stepped into Gotham and warned of League intervention, Stray had teamed with the Vixens and Luthor and had him taken down in less than twelve hours. He'd released him, of _course_ , but the League doesn't seem to have learned their lesson. Aquaman, in particular, is testing his patience, and outside of setting himself on fire, he doesn't know how to make the stupid blowfish-whisperer take a hint.

Bruce understands their need for independence, or maybe he’s just happy to not have Stray harassing him as often when he and Selina commit their sinful acts in the apartment Dick and Selina share. (And no, Dick is _not_ a prude, but Selina is his _mother,_ and this whole playhouse Daddy thing with Bruce is _weird_ ).

Dick trains with Bruce on the weekends still, but he doesn’t have the mental capacity to goad him, or even prank him beyond the Green Lantern themed workout clothes he keeps on hand at all times. Selina accompanies him several times, commenting on his progress and helping him work on his strength.

She worries for him, as his interactions with the Titans and the Vixens increase and he throws himself into danger on both sides of the law. He’s flexible and fast, as a thief should be, but he’s weaker than a crime fighter should be. He’s constantly working to bridge that gap, pushing himself as hard as he can.

He’s on the punching bag in the penthouse he shares with Selina, thinking of Haly’s face frozen in death, the fear in his eyes, when Cardinal breaks in through the sliding door, picking the lock the way he’d learned from his time on the streets.

Dick doesn’t notice him; he can’t notice anything outside of the bag and his anger.

“Dick?” Jason calls, shutting the door behind him quietly. “You here?”

Dick hits _harder_ , _faster_ , sweating profusely as his heart pounds. He thinks of Crane’s stupid fear toxin, his parents’ bodies falling in endless suspension as Selina’s dead-eyes stare into his, unblinking.

Someone had killed Haly, just like someone had killed that gangster, and Dick's on their trail.

“Dick!”

Jason’s voice breaks through his rage-induced haze when the bag snaps, flying across the room with a quick kick.

He pants, patting his chest with a towel as he takes in Jason’s uniform.

“And I thought _I_ was the criminal,” he teases, still breathing heavily, “Is this for business? Cause I’m kind of busy.”

Jason crosses his arms.

“I can tell, and _no_ , it’s _not_. But Jason Todd is supposed to be grounded and I had to see you.”

Dick grins weakly, nightmares still dancing in his mind’s eye.

“Should I be honored, Blue Jay? It’s not every day a sidekick disobeys their mentor, unless you know Roy Harper, of course.”

Jason snorts.

“Yeah, I’ve heard those stories firsthand, and as fun as talking about Roy is, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why _are_ you here?” Dick asks, forced nonchalance straining the edges of his smile.

He hates this. He hates this _so much_.

“You’ve been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Hell, you’ve been avoiding _everyone_ and I don’t know why.”

Dick frowns, cursing Donna’s insightfulness and Roy’s Roy-ness. He pops open the cap of his water bottle and lets the cool liquid flow down his scratchy throat. He’s still a little hoarse from screaming himself awake, earlier, and Selina’s busy on a business trip.

“Any chance my abs are going to distract you from that topic of conversation?” He asks half-heartedly, posing in his shirtless glory.

Jason blushes, but he doesn’t budge.

“Worth a shot,” Dick mutters with a shrug, breezing past him with an air of indifference.

“You are the most confusing person I’ve ever met, and my mentor communicates primarily through grunts and glares.”

“And he wonders why I call him an overgrown ape,” Stray muses, leading Jason towards the main room with a slight sway to his hips. It’s natural at this point, even when he isn’t wearing heels. “He and Gorilla Grodd would get along great.”

Jason coughs to hide his laugh, accepting the bottle of water Dick offers him.

He lounges across the couch seductively, even if he isn’t planning on seducing Jason.

“You look ridiculous just standing there, Jaybird. Sit.”

Jason sprawls next to him, kicking his boots up on the table and turning to look at Dick. Dick… still _wants_ Jason, for sure. Still feels that stupid heat that shoots straight to his groin, the blush that wants to heat his cheeks…

But he won’t. He’s not Selina, and he’s not Harley, and he’s not Ivy either. Just like Jason isn’t Bruce or Joker.

“Are you going to answer my question?” Jason asks, and he actually looks a bit hurt. Kind of like a kicked puppy.

“Are you going to ask one?”

“Why have you been avoiding me specifically?, And the other Titans? And don’t say you haven’t been.”

Half-formed denials die on his tongue, but he respects Jason too much to lie. He cares too much… and that’s half the problem.

“Pretty Bird?”

Dick puts his head in his hands.

“I needed space to think. Someone very important to me was murdered, and I had a lot going on.”

“Who?”

“Pop Haly, he… he was like a grandfather to me, at the circus….”

Understanding dawns in Jason’s eyes, and he feels a pang of guilt for the misdirection. It's not a lie, technically, but it _is_ a manipulation. His Jaybird's never been fond of those.

“Isn’t that what Bruce is investigating? He said the death was ruled an accident, but he didn’t think it was.”

Dick sighs, dropping his head onto Jason’s shoulder. Jason only hesitates a moment before he shifts, wrapping his arms around Dick and pulling him closer.

“I nearly died. That assassin was _good_ , and Bruce won’t let me help, just like he didn’t let me help investigate my parents’ deaths.”

Jason frowns.

“Isn’t that how you ended up with Selina? Batman said no, and she found you ignoring him?”

“Pretty much. She… Selina means the world to me, and that assassin might come back. I don’t know who hired them, or who they work for. All I have is a stupid feather, a throwing knife, and a name.”

Jason’s lips brush across Dick’s brow, soft and comforting.

“Is that what the whole cock-tease routine was about, Dickhead? We didn’t exactly talk after you left me with a severe case of blue balls.”

Dick winces, but Jason doesn’t pull away.

“Yeah. The guy had some information, not much, but more than Bruce has. He… wasn’t exactly willing to be bribed, so I had to get him somewhere private to make him spill.”

“So you didn’t actually…?”

Dick shakes his head, knowing the question Jason was asking.

“No.”

“But you and Wally…?”

“Yes.”

Jason recoils slightly, as if burnt by Dick’s words. Dick feels the need to defend himself, even as he tells himself that's _not_ what he's doing.

“It’s…not a relationship, at least it isn’t by typical standards. We just… fuck sometimes.”

“Roy…explained it to me a bit, along with Donna. If you were planning on sleeping with Wally, then why did you kiss me?”

Dick swallows audibly, licking his lips. Lie, lie, _lie_.

“It was a bit of fun like I said. I was just…drunk. Looser with my behaviors and understanding of boundaries. I’m sorry.”

Jason sighs, making the hair on Dick’s arms stand on end.

“It’s okay. I would’ve stopped you if I’d known you were drunk. You seemed… coherent.”

Dick shrugs, lying without hesitation.

“Perks of a high tolerance, I suppose.”

It helps that he hadn't had more than a shot of tequila that night.

Jason hums, feeling colder, even if his body is just as warm as before.

“Is…That’s why you’ve been avoiding me, right? But Donna and Roy and Wally weren’t involved in that, so to speak. So why are they getting the avoidance routine?”

Dick shifts uncomfortably.

“Koriand’r and I,” He starts, weighing his words carefully, “Don’t exactly…get along.”

Jason looks at him closely, and Dick gets the horrible feeling that he sees right through him.

“Yeah, Star mentioned that you seemed to hold something ag—”

“ _Star_?” Dick croaks, trying and failing to keep his tone neutral.

Jason flushes brightly, smiling. Oblivious as always...

“Yeah, Star. She’s decided her hero name is Starfire, so I call her Star.”

“I see,” Dick mumbles, looking anywhere but Jason. “Perfect hero, with a cutesy nickname. _Starfire_.”

“So, uh, back to the topic, Star said you didn’t seem to like her.”

Dick snorts.

“ _That’s an understatement_ ,” He mutters under his breath, and louder for Jason to hear, “I just happen to prefer Kom. Koriand’r seems… fake. She’s too friendly.”

Jason raises an eyebrow.

“You sound like Bruce. And Kom? Do you mean Star’s sister? The chick who’s always hanging off you?”

Dick rolls his eyes. The Titans and the Vixens seemed to hate each other for no reason. Kom delights in pissing Jason off in every way possible (most often in the form of gratuitous PDA with Dick whenever feasible), Rae takes a sadistic pleasure in driving Donna up a wall with small things, Tara loves mocking Roy, and Cait spends most of her time annoying Wally in every way possible, no surprise there.

So maybe there’s a _bit_ of reason on the Titans’ end…

“You know her. She’s shown up to Titans hangouts several times with the other Vixens, y’know, Tara, Cait, and Rae?”

“Oh yeah, your other team. I forget about them.”

Jason had very clearly not forgotten about them if the sudden clench of his jaw is any indication.

“Yeah. Kom is… _Kom_.”

Jason snorts, a tad bit bitter. The jealousy makes Dick want to purr.

“And I’m sure she always ends up in your lap because ‘ _Tamaraneans learn language through touch_ ’ right?”

“Oh, I guess it’s an excuse ‘ _Star_ ’ shares, right?”

“She…” Jason flushes again, all traces of the anger Dick had been drawing out leaving, “We only kissed the first time. It’s not like…”

“Maybe it’s just best we drop the subject,” Dick replies, and Jason nods, lacing their fingers together lightly and forcing himself to relax.

“Do you need any help with your case?”

“No, I…I’m good.”

“Want to watch cartoons? We haven’t hung out in weeks.”

Dick smiles, pecking him on the cheek lightly. It's normal. He does it with all of his friends, Jason included. Typically there's some sort of innuendo attached as a greeting, but he needs to…withdraw a bit emotionally, stop throwing himself at Jason the way he had in the past.

Distance is good, necessary, even.

 _You are a moron,_ Donna texts him when he tells her a few hours later, still cuddled to Jason’s sleeping form. _This is going to end badly._

He’s just glad they’re talking again. The week he’d spent without Donna had been the longest _ever_ , even if had only lasted that long because avoidance is a thing he excels at.

 _We’re friends, Girl Wonder,_ Dick replies, brushing the bangs out of Jason’s hair with a soft smile. _And that’s all we need to be._

He presses a kiss to Jason’s forehead before he drifts off, his dreams (for once) void of falling loved ones and dead-eyed mentors. Instead, he dreams of Jason’s voice, far-away and static-like while blood and bird feathers coat Dick’s skin.

“ _They’re… watching… Pretty Bird… always… watching…”_

Too bad Jason’s warning came too late.

* * *

Owls, Dick learns, are symbols of death, darkness, bad luck, sickness, and knowledge. He’d known that from his Daj’s lessons on symbols left in tea leaves, but the more research he did, the more instances of an owl as a symbol of _danger_ he finds. Beyond that, owls are _predators_ – vicious ones. They swallow their food whole, taking anything of value and leaving nothing but a regurgitated empty carcass once they're done.

Owls are also incredibly territorial, especially once they’ve found a new home another creature left behind. They invade and corrupt every habitat they can find, killing and dismantling any to stand in their way. Not to mention the fact that owls could _literally see everywhere_ , given their ability to turn their necks at freaky angles. So when Dick falls down the rabbit hole of owl facts and behaviors and habits, some things begin to click.

When Stray interrogates a whisper, a quiet rumor, and finds his dead target’s next-in-charge filling in the former’s footsteps, he asks a simple question.

“ _Who killed your boss?”_

The man quivers, terrified eyes staring beyond the claws Stray wraps around his throat, beyond Stray himself.

“ _I-I…”_

_“I don’t have a lot of patience, Bob.”_

“ _I-it’s D-dave—”_

_“Shut it.”_

The man looks to the sky, as if in prayer, and then back to Stray.

 _“They’ll kill me,”_ Bob murmurs. Dick tightens his claws in response, beads of blood slowly dripping down the man’s throat, almost pleased at the fear he finds in Bob's eyes. “ _But I’m dead either way…”_

_“Out with it.”_

**“ _Beware the Court of Owls,”_**

He breathes, choking as Stray’s claws retract and his fingers dig in instead.

 _“…I can only see an owl in your teacup,”_ Alfred had said. Dick had felt that something was wrong, felt it deep in his gut, and he’d ignored it. Ignored the leaves, the way his mother had warned against. He’s never been the superstitious type, but he’d _felt_ it…

**“ _That watches all the time,_**

**_Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch,_ **

**_Behind granite and lime.”_ **

A shadow falls over them both, one Stray doesn’t notice, transfixed on the man’s fear, his _terror_. People didn’t make it far in Gotham’s criminal world with this kind of vulnerability…

“ _They watch from the shadows, man, I don’ know nothin’ more than that! Else they’d fuckin’ kill me!”_

**“ _They watch you at your hearth,_**

**_They watch you in your bed...”_ **

_“They watch you at your hearth, Dickie, my boy, they watch from the shadows and they want you. They’re waiting, waiting…”_

**_“Speak not a whispered word of them,_ **

**_Or they’ll send—"_ **

Bob’s throat makes a gurgling noise, and a metallic scent fills the air. The crimson spray coats Stray’s claws, splashing across his face, and he thinks he’s going to be sick when he tastes that same tang on his tongue.

“Or they’ll send a _Talon_ for your head,” A man muses, watching Stray scramble to put pressure on the wound without any real expression.

His eyes are pale gold, empty and vacant in a way Dick’s only seen in his parents’ corpses. He’s pale, pale as snow with icy blue veins to match, almost supernatural in his looks. The only normal part of the man seems to be his oily black hair, a dark shade similar to Dick’s, because even his build is unnatural, looming and muscular and tall in a way Stray’s only seen from Bats and Superman.

Bob’s heart fades despite Dick’s attempts, and he wants to scream, to _hurt_ this stupid man for forcing another person to die in front of him.

“Dick Grayson,” he announces in the kind of hoity-toity ‘I’m superior’ tone that Dick hears too often at Galas, “You belong to the Court of Owls.”

Dick snorts, wiping some of the blood on his hands onto his suit as he gets to his feet.

“I belong to no one, and I’m not typically someone who kink shames, but those suits? Not ideal if you want me to call you master. I’m not a big fan.”

“Ah, banter. I will enjoy beating that out of you most of all, _Gray Son_.”

Dick raises an eyebrow.

“I prefer Stray in costume, asshole. Not that you should know that identity.”

The man snorts in contempt, cold, dead, eyes sending a chill down Dick’s spine.

“The thief is not known for her secrecy, Gray Son, and you are of my blood. _My_ promised heir – the _Gray Son_ of Gotham.”

Dick blinks, propping out his hip sassily with his right hand behind his back. He has an emergency button _somewhere_ …

“Look, I’m sorry and all because this must be _really_ awkward for you, but I don’t have an incest kink either. Guess we aren’t compatible after all. Typically you’re supposed to share and compare before getting into the role play, buddy. Better luck next time…”

And boom. Button pressed. Batman or Selina should be on their way at some point, and if neither of them picks up, it will go to the Titans and the Vixens, and if THEY are busy, it will go to Cardinal. Now, he just has to hold Talon off.

Talon circles him, a predatory gaze examining Dick’s form.

“Jokes are unbecoming, Gray Son. Humor is a pointless tool. I think it will be amusing watching you _break_ and _shatter_ , only to mold you into something better.”

Dick rips his whip from its sheath, snapping it on the ground.

“Seriously, you need to learn to take a hint, gramps – You are my ‘grandpa’, right? You look like a gramps to me – I’m not interested in your little offer.”

“I am your grandfather,” Talon replies, smirking. “And you are the Court’s—"

“If you start monologuing,” Stray starts, narrowing his eyes, “I will stab _myself_.”

Talon hums, amused, but thankfully silent.

He really hopes Catwoman is on her way, or Batman. Hell, he’ll take anyone. Even Kom or Donna being smug beats dealing with this creep solo. Something about this man sets Dick on edge, something in him set every warning bell Dick has off.

“You’re waiting for Wayne, aren’t you?”

He glares.

“Arkham is open, little kitten. Wayne and the thief are rather… _occupied_ , along with your team. There’s no one here to save you. You are _ours_.”

Dick doesn’t notice the man behind him until he feels a sting on the back of his neck.

“Fuck,” he curses, pale gold eyes the last thing he sees. “Selina’s going to kill me.”

(By the time Selina, Bruce, and Cardinal arrive at the scene, all that remains is a dead body, Stray’s whip, and a single bird feather. Selina’s cries echo the abandoned building long after the sun rises).

* * *

*

**Past - Age 9**

*

“Why?”

Selina glances back at him from where she’s pinning his poster – the one of him and his parents from the circus that Selina had _somehow_ tracked down – with a mischievous grin and a twinkle in her eyes.

“What’s up, little bird?”

Dick frowns, swinging his feet above the ground. His bed’s tall, almost as tall as him.

“Why would you adopt me? Why would you help me? I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Selina’s smile softens, and she sets her supplies down to walk over to him. She tilts his chin to meet her eyes, still smiling as she cups his cheek.

“You reminded me of _me_ , my little bird. I was left an orphan on Gotham’s streets when my deadbeat Dad drank himself to death and my Mom decided to take her own life. I had to see the world from the filth, and the orphanages…”

She shakes her head, and Dick hesitantly wraps his arms around her. She returns the hug, pressing a featherlight kiss to his forehead.

“The orphanages are either criminal training grounds or neglectful centers where kids are abused. I… I didn’t want you to suffer like I had to. I had to do a lot of things I regret, and I had to more things I wish I could regret. I had to…steal, for some very bad people, and I was treated like merchandise, like some sort of slave… Better people found me, taught me to be strong and defend myself. I…”

Dick pulls back, staring at her.

“I want to be that for you. I want to give you the same opportunities that saved me, but I don’t want you to have to suffer at all. You’re so sweet and bright, and I want to help you keep that light, even if I don’t exactly know how this adoptive parent thing works.”

Dick smiles, squeezing her tight.

“You’re doing great, Selina. I’m happy you’re my adoptive parent.”

“I’m happy too, kitten. I’m happy too.”


	3. lost my name but it's etched in stone (no one's safe, no escaping now)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m billing your ass for this suit,” Dick informs the man as he lands a roundhouse to his cheekbone, following it up with an uppercut. “They aren’t cheap. Beauty is expensive.”
> 
> The man hisses, an almost inhuman sound, and Dick flinches back.
> 
> “What the f—”
> 
> (“KILL! KILL! KILL!”)
> 
> “I don’t—”
> 
> (“One lives, one dies. You’re our little toys, so be good toys and KILL!”)
> 
> The Talon strikes again, this time near his throat, and Dick manages to use the momentum to flip him, straddling his hips and holding the throwing knife to his throat.
> 
> “Gray Son…” the crowd murmurs again, and he shifts, fighting the Talon’s desperate thrashing, the assassin’s weak attempts to knock Stray off.
> 
> “Grandson,” the Talon that had captured him says, standing before him. “This is the one responsible for Haly’s death.”
> 
> “It was on your orders!” He hisses, keeping the struggling pet-soldier pinned. “You killed him to draw me out!”
> 
> His ‘Grandfather’ grins.
> 
> “But he is the weapon that spilled Haly’s blood, the one who killed the last remnants of your Circus family in front of your eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH ANOTHER UPDATE?? WHO IS SHE????  
> Jk lol. So, news:
> 
> I am entering the DCU Big Bang (10k version ofc) with two separate entries! One will be a solo work, and the other will be a piece I'm collabing with the amazingly talented and wickedly awesome NightwingVixen23 on!!! We've been planning a piece for months, so this felt like the right time, and I always have too many unfinished ideas, so why not?
> 
> Sequel news:
> 
> You glorious bastards have worn me down, and now yet another one-shot has a sequel in the works. everybody in the world knows (you're) a little twisted is getting another part, and no one is going to be happy with me :)
> 
> Earth 69 (the most glorious earth) news:  
> I briefly bring up some arcs from the comics like Roy's PRE-crisis addiction (his post-crisis addiction was retconned so poorly ugh) and Tarantu-bitch the rapist. Both of these will NOT be major arcs within this story itself, but within the series overall. I have both stories planned out (kind of) and I'll probably start writing them soon.
> 
> Now, sappy shit, cause I'm a sappy author that loves torturing people ig (insert shrug thing that I'm too lazy to copy and paste):
> 
> dbakeiro, as always, betaed this piece, but I edit like a madwoman so don't be surprised if there's a bunch of random typos I missed and she missed lol. They'll be fixed (eventually). She got her fluff, so she can finally get off my case about hurting her boys (*cue comment section filled with the tortured screams of readers who just want Stray and Jason to fuck and be happy*)
> 
> NightwingVixen23, as always, is an inspiration and an absolute PLEASURE to just rant about this story with. I talk about it so much, you guys don't even know (unless the word counts are an indication...)
> 
> Dc Comics discord, who I will force to read this at some point, was super helpful with working out certain ideas, deciding certain ships, etc and also putting up with my shitty smut writing (not featured this chapter you dirty peeps AHA you thought)
> 
> WithTheKeyIsKing, who always leaves amazing comments that highkey make me cry and also make me examine my entire universe and do the whole 'huh, I guess I did do that' song and dance!!!! Plus their writing is straight up the best, so...
> 
> CherriSpit, Burt_Macklin_FBI_49, dickharemDC, AlisonSky, Vidya, graceful.birb (anon), and just everyone who's ever supported my writing in anyway. Every single one of you, even people I didn't name, make my day just seeing how much you guys enjoy my brain dumps. I'm literally tearing up writing this cause I'm EMOTIONAL I guess, and I personally love you so much. Some of you comment on everything I write, and some pick and choose, and I love you for it.
> 
> I'm really really proud of this chapter, and not to sound cheesy or anything (*goes off to write angst to balance this mess*) but I hope you guys love reading this as much as I loved writing it. 
> 
> (Also! Song bop of choice for this chapter is Take Me Home by Hollywood Undead, which also happens to be where the title for this chap comes from)
> 
> Edit: Bellona is Donna’s hero name because I said so. Roy becomes Red Arrow, and Wally will become Savitar. I didn’t mention this before 😂

*

It’s three am and he’d promised Selina he’d study for that English exam tomorrow, but he’s here instead. Bruce is home sick with Jason, Alfred lecturing them both on proper thermal gear while fussing over their fevers from Gotham’s winter, and the Titans are with their mentors. He’s alone, and with Selina and Harley helping Ivy take down some oil-dumping cooperation, he won’t be caught.

He’s good, _damn good_ if he does say so himself, and Sionis is a cocky prick that needs to be taught a lesson.

“Hello gorgeous,” He murmurs to the giant dial. This shipment has only just arrived in Gotham Harbor, and with the amount of security on it, Dick’s betting it’s _really_ important to Mask. Maybe weapons, maybe drugs. If it’s the former, he’ll steal them and stash them. If it’s the latter, he’ll throw them in Gotham Bay where they belong.

Roy’s having a hard enough time with the withdrawals without Gotham swimming in illegal temptations of the not-fun-kind. Dick left him passed out in his bed at Selina’s penthouse, sleeping off the headaches and cravings. It’s been a month, and as hard as this is for Dick, he knows it’s harder still for the ex-ward of Oliver Queen. He’s still mad Wally held him back. He would’ve clawed the rich bastard’s eyes out, mistake or not. Who the fuck throws their son out just because he got addicted to some drugs?!

Bruce can deal with Stray killing. What’s he going to do, send him to Arkham? He’d be in and out in less than an hour, which he knows as a fact from the time he’d sent himself to Arkham and broken out to find holes in the security (Bruce called it reckless, but Stray thinks he’s just jealous _he_ didn’t think of it first).

Moving beyond his interrupted murder attempt, Roy had been a drunken-high mess of hormones, especially with the still-kind-of-recent breakup of him and Donna and the way Dick has been more distant since Tara, Komand’r, and Man-stealer stepped on the scene. So Stray, being the excellent friend he is, had goaded Roy into a fight, knocked his ass out, dumped his supply and taken him to Gotham, where he’s been for the last few months.

Even if Ollie’s being a piece of shit, at least Dinah’s helping, Stray isn’t sure what he’d do if she hadn’t offered to help. It’s not like he entirely understands it, the drugs and the addiction, but he cares, which Dinah says is more important. He hasn’t seen Donna in a while, mainly cause of Roy, but also because she’s been busy. Her, Kory, and Diana had gone to Themyscira for some training thing for a few weeks, and he isn’t sure when they’ll be back.

So drugs are not even a slight option. They’re all being destroyed if they’re here instead of weapons ( _personally, Stray’s hoping for a rocket launcher. He **really** wants to blow up Sionis’s office, and Capitalism won’t let him have a rocket launcher!_)

“Bingo.”

The safe shudders open as the numbers click into place, swinging back to reveal a dark compartment. It seems endless, but that might just be the lack of visible walls.

He hums to himself, pulling a bat-issue flashlight he’d quote ‘ _borrowed’_ from the Batcave the last time he’d been there and smugly agreed to patrol for a sniffling Batman and a feverish Cardinal. He’d recorded it, because he’d made Bruce say _please_ without it being a growl (obviously it’s his new ring tone, and he may or may not have sold it to the Justice League as a ringtone for their phones too).

But as the light filters out of the small flashlight, as the room brightens, what he sees are not _drugs_ , not _weapons_ , not even _antiques_ …

It’s _people_. A whole cargo full of _people_ …. And they look _terrified of him_.

He steps back, retracting his claws and raising his hands placatingly, trying to school his features into a non-threatening expression.

“Hey, I…I’m not with them,” He says gently. A girl steps forward, ribs showing through the tattered, thin spandex of her purple leotard. She looks half-starved and exhausted, bright eyes barely visible under the darkness of her hood.

“He’s telling the truth,” She says without looking at him, facing the other children in chains, the teens covered in dirt and grime standing protectively in front of the younger kids like he’s going to _take them_ ¸ like he’s going to _hurt them…_ Dick feels sick.

“What…this is a trafficking shipment, isn’t it?”

The girl flicks down her hood, revealing a jewel stone on her forehead and long purple hair. She looks _his age_ …

“No shit,” She answers, crossing her arms across her chest (and there’s rips _there_ too, Dick notices with growing horror, rips revealing pale white flesh. Dick wishes he had a blanket or a cape to offer her). “Meta trafficking. Children ripped from families and stolen off the streets.”

Stray nods dumbly, watching the children still cowering, the teens tracking his movements with suspicious eyes that look decades older than they should.

“I’m Stray, and I’m friends with Batman and the Justice League. I… I can call in some backup and get you all home.”

“Batman?” A young boy hiding behind purple-girl murmurs, clutching a small Batman plushy in his arms. Dick nods, stepping towards him slowly, making sure to telegraph his movements. Purple girl doesn’t stop him, and the boy clutches her thigh tightly, seemingly interested in Stray, but still wary.

Dick crouches in front of him, offering a hand. The kid takes it shyly, smiling slightly.

“Yeah, Batman. He’s a good friend of me and my mom.” The kid looks at his uniform, smiling wider than Dick’s ever seen.

“You’re Stray!” He blurts out, looking all too excited for someone facing a criminal. “You’re awesome! You’re so cool and badass and—”

“Language,” Purple-girl murmurs affectionately as the small child crashes into Stray’s arms.

“—I saw you tell off Lex Luthor on live TV! Back when I was in a foster home! It was so cool!”

Dick chuckles, holding the kid tight.

“Hell yeah, I told him off! So if you let me up, I can call in some backup and get everyone out of this place and go beat up the guys who took you. Sound good?”

The kid nods.

“What are your names, anyway?”

“Billy Batson,” Purple-girl says, smiling for the first time since she stepped up, “and I’m Raven.”

It’s then that he noticed the thick collars around their necks. Power dampeners, things he also happens to own in case he ever runs into a meta he can’t take in a fight (and he _maybe_ stole it from Bruce, what can he say, he’s a _thief_ ).

Stray winces, turning around and pulling his communicator out of his suit. He dials the landline he’d set up in the safehouse Tara and Kom are crashing at, knowing he’s going to need some firepower before he calls the Uptight™ League. There’s also the fact that he _really_ wants to let loose on these assholes who think kidnapping _children_ and treating them like _property_ is in any way okay, and Stray has yet to raid Luthor’s kryptonite supply (which means he’ll end up breaking his hand on Superman’s stupid face when the lovable idiot tries to stop him and speaking from experience, _it fucking hurts_ ).

“Richard,” Kom answers on the third ring, sounding aggravated. The ex-Queen of Tamaran hates her beauty sleep being interrupted, “If this is a ‘booty call’ as you humans call it, I will—”

“It’s not,” He interrupts, “It’s really not. How long do you think it would take you and Tara to suit up, arm yourselves, and get down to Gotham Harbor?”

“Five minutes,” She replies immediately, and he can hear her slipping on parts of her uniform and walking towards the weapons vault. “But what’s going on? I know we don’t have any heists planned tonight.”

“Trafficking, _meta_ trafficking. There’s… they’re just kids, Kom.”

She breathes out, and he recognizes the sound of her trying to calm down.

“Batman’s rules won’t stop me,” She murmurs, and he hears Tara ask why the hell she’s being woken up before noon. “I don’t care.”

“I know. I won’t bother trying, you know I feel the same.”

“Five minutes,” Kom repeats, sounding just a touch shaky. “We’ll be there.”

She hangs up before he can bother trying to say goodbye.

“Who was that?” Raven asks, and others inch forward too, less wary and more curious.

He grins.

“One of my other friends. She’s an alien queen, and she’s going to help me get you guys to safety while I call the Justice League.”

Raven raises a brow.

“Why haven’t you already called them?”

Stray smirks.

“They’re uptight, and I don’t want to deal with them until Kom and Tara are done. They aren’t as… _accepting_ of more violent methods.”

Raven nods.

“You are a thief, right?”

“Yes, one of the best.”

“Can you pick the lock on this… _contraption_? I want to fight too. They’ve…”

Her eyes flash red, and Dick thinks he sees throats being slit, a field of corpses and bloodshed and _pain_ , endless _pain_ , and then it’s gone, as soon as it came. Raven’s eyes are back to their deep purple and Stray lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding in.

“They need to _suffer_ ,” She hisses, hatred burning clear as day in her eyes. “They need to _hurt_.”

Dick sets a hand on her shoulder lightly, trying to not take it personally when she flinches almost imperceptibly. Stray still notices, of course.

“And they will, I promise you that.”

Raven nods, and Dick pulls out a lockpick Bruce had, surprisingly enough, given him and Selina as a Christmas gift. Dick thinks he won’t mind this use, might even bake him a burnt cake in celebration (Assuming Alfred lets him within five feet of the kitchen, as Bruce is a hazard to kitchens everywhere).

For such a high-tech device, it operates very similarly to the locks on Black Mask’s other safes, the ones that opened with a key. It’s sad, really, all that money and the idiot uses locks the Ancient Egyptians used. At least Nygma and the others, for all their faults, make it _slightly_ challenging for Stray.

Raven touches her neck as the collar clatters to the ground, inky black tendrils wrapping around her bare arms.

“Thank you,” She whispers, giving him a quick hug. “ _Thank you_ …”

There’s a sound like gunfire as she hugs him, and he and Raven exchange a look.

“Cavalry’s arrived,” He announces to the room, letting his claws come back out. Raven takes his lockpick and frees Billy too, passing it along to another teen. Dick figures he’s not getting it back, and he’s okay with it.

The boat rocks as screams hit the air, and he tells the kids to follow him.

The hallway is empty as they leave the cramped room, completely barren of any patrolmen. He supposes he made the right call calling in Kom, even if Bruce is going to chew his ass out for metas in his city and killing. Oh well, not like he ever listens to his broodiness.

“ _FACE ME!”_ He hears Komand’r scream, as Tara curses loudly. He breaks into a run, Raven and Billy right on his heels. The others follow, at a slower pace. “ _FACE ME YOU BASTARDS!”_

The boat rocks again, probably from the sheer force of Kom’s blackbolts, as they reach a split in their path.

“Go left,” He tells them, looking at the stairs ahead. He won’t stop Kom, he couldn’t even if he wanted to, but he can get his satisfaction too.

Billy is the only one to hesitate as the crowd moves, still there as Dick and Raven move right.

“I can help,” He says, and before Dick can tell him no, he shouts the strangest word Dick’s ever heard: “ _SHAZAM!”_

Dick tackles Raven to the ground as a bolt of lightning strikes Billy, aging him, and he floats above the ground, the scent of ozone surrounding him.

“I’m helping.”

Dick sighs, tossing Billy the communicator with the Justice League’s info pulled up.

“Fine, but can you help the others escape, first? And call the League. They’re going to help the victims.”

Billy nods, running off after the crowd with Dick’s communicator in hand.

“Smart,” Raven notes, and Stray shoots her a grin as they both run up the stairs, towards the main deck.

“Look who finally arrived at his party,” Tara says with a grin, pistol-whipping the guy behind her hard enough that Dick hears the man’s cheekbone shatter with a loud ‘ _crack_ ’. She spits on him as he collapses, grin still intact. “You send the invites and show up late, how rude. And who’s the hottie?”

Raven stares at Tara, unimpressed.

“Raven, and you?”

Tara winks.

“You can call _me_ Gaia.”

“You have Earth powers, don’t you?”

Tara stares at her.

“How did you…?”

“I _read_.”

Tara seems to sense she’s not getting anything else out of Raven and turns to Stray.

“Princess is going psycho. I don’t want Bats on my ass, so I’m restricting myself, but she’s letting everything go.”

Stray watches Kom fire another blackbolt straight through someone’s chest, eyes luminescent with green, hair seemingly on fire as it floats above her.

He sighs.

“Yeah, how many are left?”

“About fifty men total, but Kom’s making that number dwindle.”

Raven frowns.

“Is the man in the black mask here?”

Tara turns to Dick.

“Your elderly admirer is the one doing this shit?!”

Stray glares at her.

“No, Raven, he’s not here at the moment, and Yes, Goldilocks, he is.”

She rolls her eyes, firing a shot just past Dick’s ear. When he turns, he sees another Black Ass recruit with a gun aimed at him, wide-eyed as he bleeds out.

“Oops,” Tara says with a shrug, dancing over towards Komand’r. Her aim’s dead-on, and he’s always been curious about who trained her. She has yet to give them up, but Dick figures he’ll get it out of her eventually.

Raven grins, like a shark smelling blood in the water. It’s predatory, dangerous, and Stray realizes he still has no clue what her powers are. The inky tendrils unravel from her arms and legs, extending beyond her reach in waves. He shivers as they brush past him, seeing that field of corpses again.

Raven’s eyes glow black, and she raises herself above the ship, tendrils grabbing onto each goon they find. Their screams are broken, haunting, and seem to intensify before cutting off with a choked gurgle. He makes the mistake of looking once and sees the internal organs of a man ripped straight from his stomach, bloody, but still intact. Stray stomps on one, because his female companions don’t seem eager to let him get his licks in.

Raven’s still ripping people apart when he reaches Komand’r. She’s glowing, shaking in a way he’d only seen once before, when she’d landed on Earth and found some space traffickers with the Titans.

“Kom!” He shouts, hearing Tara cackle as she shoots, and Raven’s victims scream. He ducks under one guy’s sloppy punch, spinning and kicking him straight over the ship’s rails. “Kom, you’re okay!”

Her green eyes dim slightly, chest heaving with exertion. She’s darker than he’s ever seen, violet hair a dark ebony whipping around her face.

“Richard?” She breathes, sounding fragile, just a step away from vulnerable.

“You’re safe, you’re here. They don’t have you, and you saved the kids. I promise, Kom, you know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He catches her as she falls, slumping in his arms. She shivers in his arms, curling up slightly. Dick presses a kiss to her forehead, brushing some strands of hair from her eyes.

“Come on, your highness, time to get up.”

She glares at him, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“You saved them, Kom, you did.”

For her sake, he pretends he doesn’t feel her tears on his neck. She needs his comfort more than she needs his words, so they’re both silent for a long while.

(The stupid Justice League ends up interrupting Dick and Raven’s attempted murder of one Roman Sionis, berating him on ‘excessive force’ and the fact that most of Sionis’s minions left the Harbor in body bags. Billy ends up being adopted by Clark Kent of all people, because Batman isn’t the only hero with a weakness for adorable orphans, apparently. Bruce chews him out for not telling him about the shipment and for ‘reckless behavior’, Jason pouts about not getting an invite, and Wally and Roy end up meeting what would come to be the Gotham Vixens once one Caitlin Snow joins them. Overall, it doesn’t go as horribly as everything after it does. Guess that’s just the bad luck that comes with being a cat)

*

The first thing he feels is the cold. He’s shaking, chained to a table and damn near _convulsing_ as his body tries to generate some form of heat, _any_ form of heat. It’s colder than he’s ever felt, like a blizzard’s trapped itself in his veins, like he’s made of ice. He groans as his eyes flutter open, gagging as the taste of morning breath greets him.

“He’s awake,” a man says from somewhere to his left, and Dick sees an owl where his face should be. He cocks his head at him, confused.

“Good. He’s strong. The Court will be pleased.”

“Fuck you,” he snarls, but it comes out as more of a croak, quiet and weak as he struggles against his bonds.

Hands and claws hold him in place, bruising and cutting in their grips, in their strength. He protests, but the room spins, the otherworldly white luminescence of the room blinding him. This isn’t heaven, because heaven isn’t supposed to hurt, so where the fuck is he?s…

“Electrum injections?” the man asks someone he can’t see, holding a syringe full of liquid gold just within eyesight. Dick shivers.

“No. He must prove his worth first, the Court is… _eager_ to see his talents at work.”

Something in him _writhes_ , terror striking him so suddenly he freezes. This is _bad_. So so _bad_. If the BDSM-dungeon-master reject claiming to be his grandfather is to be believed, all of Gotham is dealing with an Arkham breakout and B and Selina aren’t going to be looking for him anytime soon. And if _all_ of Arkham is out, the Titans would definitely be fighting alongside Jason to put them back, and the Vixens won’t be looking for him until Arkham’s contained, which knocks out his entire circle of people who give a shit.

There’s also the couple he’d had some… _fun_ with before he’d been kidnapped, but that would easily be brushed off as a one-night stand. He doubts they expected him to call them the next day, or ever again.

He needs to get _up_ , to _fight_ , before it’s too late, before the Court of Furries gets whatever it is they want out of him. He knows too much, _way_ too much, with how often he hacks into the Batcomputer.

There’s a prick in his neck, and his eyes flutter shut…The room is white, and he doesn’t get the chance to discern it from the owl-headed man to his left before it fades to black.

“Sleep, Grayson,” He thinks he hears. In his mind, it sounds like Jason, so he listens.

Jason always has the best ideas.

*

“Come _on_ ,” Wally says with a pout, dragging an overly amused Jason and Dick with him through the karaoke bar doors. “Donna and Roy are waiting for us, and Dick had to take _forever_ to primp.”

Dick shrugs with a grin.

“Beauty takes time, time I can tell _you_ did not take.”

Jason snorts, and Wally glares at him.

“At least I don’t take five hours to finish getting ready.”

“At least _I_ can last longer than five minutes.”

“Ouch!” Roy butts in, throwing an arm around Jason and Dick’s shoulders. “Claws are out tonight!”

“Speaking from experience?” Jason asks, eyebrow raised.

Dick smirks without comment, sauntering past the group towards the table Donna’s lounging at.

“Hey gorgeous twin of mine,” He greets with a kiss to her forehead. She smirks, rolling her eyes.

“You’re just stroking your ego with the twin tacked on, Wonder Boy.”

Dick bumps his shoulder against hers.

“Can’t I stroke _both_ our egos?”

“You can stroke mine,” Wally mutters, turning red when Stray winks at his phrasing. Jason and Roy both facepalm, groaning. “Not what I meant guys!”

“Why Kid Idiot,” Dick replies, hand on his heart, “I had no idea you could be so _forward~!”_

Wally glares, waving over the waitress.

“Round of shots, on _this_ dick,” he jerks his thumb at Stray, offering up his fake ID. She doesn’t bother checking it, probably because this is Gotham, and they were all in uniform. “Whiskey, _please_.”

“Trying to get me drunk?” Jason jokes. It is, after all, his first big outing with the Titans for non-mission reasons. Stray had practically dragged him out of the Manor with a wink at Alfred and a middle finger for Bruce, saying that Jason needed to have fun outside of books.

Jason knows better than arguing with Dick Grayson-Kyle when he wants something, Stray trained him well.

“Of course, Batboy,” Roy replies, “It’s not a Titans outing if Stray is fully dressed and everyone’s sober.”

Dick shrugs.

“You’ll have to get some real liquor in me if you want me to do anything like last time.”

“Last time?” Jason asks, looking at Donna for an answer. Dick snorts. You get near naked _one time…_

“Boy Blunder ended up in just his boxers in a dancing cage drunk of his ass. Everyone thought he was one of the strippers, and he made, what, three-hundred dollars in bills?”

“Five-hundred,” Dick replies proudly, offering the waitress a twenty as she came back with their drinks. “Keep the change, darlin’!” He adds with a wink.

She flushes, making Jason frown.

Stray, _of course_ , notices this and elbows Jason.

“Don’t get jealous, Blue Jay, it’s not becoming.”

Jason does not blush. He doesn’t, and that’s the hill _he will die on_.

“I’m not. On an unrelated note, pass me a shot.”

Jason is the _master_ of changing the subject, Stray thinks sarcastically, passing him a shot and downing one of his own.

“Five bucks says alley cat blacks out,” Roy says smugly as Dick makes a face, the way he always did with heavier liquors. He glares at the redhead, who shrugs unapologetically.

Donna eyes them both speculatively, taking a sip of her drink.

“Twenty says he gives a lap dance before he blacks out.”

Roy snorts.

“I’ll take it,” and to Dick, “Don’t do it, for me.”

Dick bats his eyes innocently.

“Lil’ old me? I would _never_ do something so…” He trails a finger down Roy’s chest, making him swallow roughly. “ _Scandalous_.”

Donna grins victoriously as Roy groans, trying and failing to hide his excitement.

“I hate you. I hate you _both_.”

Jason laughs, eyes drifting to the door as Kory enters. Dick glares, turning to Donna as Kory greets Jason with a kiss on the cheek.

“ _What the fuck is she doing here?!”_ He hisses, pulling Donna to the bar. “ _This is Titans night! No nonmembers!”_

“ _She’s potentially going to **be** a member, Dick!”_

“ _No one informed me of this!”_

“ _Maybe because you’ve been **busy** with your other team!”_

Dick sends Kory a death glare when she looks over, because honestly, is _nothing_ sacred?!

“As team leader, I say _no_.”

“Dick—”

“ _N-o_.”

“ _Dick_ —”

Dick rolls his eyes.

“I have to go to the bathroom, be back, _maybe_.”

_Not_.

Before he even leaves Donna’s line of sight he’s dialing Caitlin Snow, only because she’s always good for a quick rant session, and she seems to dislike Starfire as much as him.

“Cait! Pick up _you_ —”

_“Kitty-cat, what’s with the call?”_

“Donna invited _Koriand’r_ to hang.”

She groans.

_“Don’t the Titans get pissed at you when we crash? Why would they invite her?”_

“I have no clue, but I’m not down to watch her all over—”

_“Jason. Yes, darling, we all know.”_

“Cait _—”_

_“I’m grabbing the Vixens, and we’ll be there in ten. Take some shots, have fun. If Cardinal has any taste at all, he’ll be bored of her the second she starts talking. Ugh, I’ve never heard someone so annoyingly nice in my life, and I’m friends with you.”_

Dick breathes out.

“Okay. You’re right.”

_“I always am, shorty.”_

She lets him go without a goodbye, and the first thing he does is order a second shot of whiskey with a request to keep them coming.

*

By the time the Vixens actually arrive in all their badass glory (Rae’s even wearing something besides her cloak! The leather jacket is Dick’s but he’s used to his friends stealing clothes at this point) Stray is tipsy as all hell, and grinding against someone he doesn’t even know.

“Mind if I cut in?” Cait asks, shooting the guy a glare till he scampers off. She puts his hands on her waist lightly, shooting him a look as Kom, Rae, and Tara dance next to them.

“When I said to drink a little, I didn’t mean six sheets to the wind level drinking.”

Dick pouts.

“Jason’s paying attention to Kory, and not to _me_. He probably likes her…”

“Oh hell _no_ , we are _not_ self-pitying here,” Tara cuts in, bumping her hip with Dick’s. He stumbles, and Rae catches him.

“I love you guys!” He tells them, and they all roll their eyes in unison. They’re used to him like this.

He’s a sappy drunk, all too eager to spread love and emotions. It was always fun for him to deal with the next day, _not_.

“We love you too,” Kom replies evenly, swooping in and stealing him from Cait. “So why don’t we show your ‘Little Wing’ what he’s missing while he’s fraternizing with my sister?”

Dick eyes her suspiciously.

“You just want to grope me.”

She shrugs.

“It’s a perk.”

“Ah, what the hell.”

He catches Donna’s eye as they drag him to the center of the dancefloor, and he’s mad enough to ignore it, especially when Wally and Roy dance their way over and his song comes on.

_Oh  
Oh, yeah_

_Did I catch your attention? You look like you lost your breath, huh  
When I circle the room, you an owl, you gon' twist your head  
  
_

There’s something about dancing that makes him feel _powerful_ and _confident_ , sexy in an untouchable sort of way. His movements are fluid, graceful and flowing like water as he keeps chest to chest with Kom. She’s one of his favorite dancing partners, for many reasons, but her uncanny ability to match him step for step is a big one.

“ _Jason’s looking_ ,” Kom whispers in his ear, “ _Everyone is.”_

“Let’s give them something to look at, yeah?”

Her grin matches his own.

_Don't you come at me green with an attitude when my lips and my soles are red  
If I leave you behind, you can look for the broken necks  
No, no_

_'Cause I've been here once or twice  
Never worry 'bout the eyes, come on_

Dick dips Kom to the floor, winking at Jason and Kory as they both blatantly stare. Kory looks perturbed, upset, even, as Jason doesn’t seem to hear her words. Power, it’s intoxicating, and he’s drunk on the sensations more than the liquor, on the eyes following his every move as him and Kom take over the floor, in perfect sync.

_Don't just stand there staring, honey  
Try to move your feet  
  
_

_If you think they looking at you  
They looking at me  
_

_I can make it nice and easy  
I'ma take the lead  
They ain't even looking at you, baby  
They looking at me_

_They looking at me  
Yeah, yeah, they looking at me_

He loses himself to the beat and Kom’s hands, strategically wandering in the way she knows Jason hates seeing, sticking close enough to Dick that they can feel each other’s breathing as they sway to the beat.

“Batkid’s jealous,” Cait laughs, twirling with Raven and Tara interchangeably. Dick grins, swapping partners to dance with Cait. “It’d almost be cute, if it weren’t so pathetic.”

Laughter bubbles out of Stray’s chest as they glide around the room, less caring of drawing attention and more interested in _enjoying_ it.

_(Don't you)  
Don't just stand there staring, honey (honey)  
Try to move your feet (try to move your feet now)  
  
_

_If you think they looking at you  
They looking at me  
  
_

Stray hardly notices when Cait spins him away with a knowing grin, and he thinks Kom is going to catch him, or Tara, but it ends up being Jason.

“Dickhead, you save a dance for me?”

He smiles wide, trying to suppress the desire to shove it in Kory’s stupid red hair.

“Always.”

_I can make it nice and easy  
I'ma take the lead  
  
_

_They ain't even looking at you, baby  
They looking at me_

_(Yeah, they're looking at me, my baby, baby, baby)  
Yeah, yeah, they looking at me_

_  
But the truth is they looking at me  
They looking at me_

(Him and Donna come to a mutual agreement that he and Starfire need to be separated in fear of Dick scaring her off, so long as the Vixens don’t crash every Titans event. Jason looks at him with something akin to awe, and Dick tries to deny the spark of warmth he feels every time Jason smiles at him)

*

The next time he wakes, he’s surrounded by marble from floor to ceiling. Everything in the room looks the same, except for a giant fountain in the center. His throat feels scratchy, painfully so, but he looks at the cool water in the pure-white room, and some part of him tells him not to.

He isn’t quite sure why, just like he isn’t quite sure how he got here.

He’s still in his Stray suit, and the leather is now stiff with dried blood. He frowns, wrinkling his nose at the odor. The first thing he’s going to do when he gets back home will be taking a long-ass shower.

But… why wait?

He frowns, glancing at the fountain again.

Talon is absent, and Stray is alone. The fountain would be great to rinse off in, maybe have some water to drink beforehand.

‘ _Don’t_.’

He hesitates, deciding he can double back if he truly needs to. Better to get moving and find an escape path, before Selina works herself up to a breakdown. He decides on the right path from the fountain, for no reason other than it feels like the _right_ direction to go ( _Heh, he can still pun! If he can pun, he’s purrfectly fine!_ ).

The path goes on for what has to be a quarter of a mile of whiteness before it forks off into three separate paths. Shrugging, he takes the right path again, still not seeing any discernable characteristics to differentiate this from the room he’d just been in. He seems to be out of luck with his whip, Must’ve dropped it in the scuffle, he supposes. When they’d knocked him out…

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice the fountain until he damn near falls into it, narrowly catching himself on the oversized rim of its basin.

Dick frowns again, glancing around the room carefully.

Either it was the same room he’d woke up in, or this stupid marble maze has identical rooms. At this rate, he’ll be as sane as the Joker when he finds a way out.

He decides process of elimination will have to do the trick and goes to the left this time. The marble arch above the path is cracked blood trailing down from the top, and part of him recoils at the sight. Someone…

Someone is injured, possibly dying.

He keeps his footsteps silent, a difficult feat when he feels like shit and hasn’t eaten in… however long he’s been here, give or take a day and a half. His stomach rumbles at the thought, and he groans.

There’s a high-pitched shriek coming from the arch, and Dick draws closer, curiosity outweighing the paranoia he’d always failed to learn.

“ _Gray Son_ ,” a collection of voices murmur, hissing and clicking and snapping like birds. Like _vicious_ birds.

Owls…

He ducks out of pure instinct as someone barrels towards him, a man in a leather uniform with throwing blades. His eyes are the same pale gold he’d seen in his kidnapper’s eyes, only more… unhinged. Where the other Talon’s eyes were a void, this Talon’s eyes are a warning sign in big bold letters. As if the improperly maintained facial hair wouldn’t have alerted Dick to that fact. Dick’s of the opinion that if you can’t maintain your hair (facial or otherwise) you shouldn’t have it – and this guy is _seriously_ abusing his facial hair with the whole caveman look.

“ _Die, little toy…DIE for your MASTERS!”_

The Talon doesn’t hesitate. He launches himself at Stray immediately, armed with one throwing knife in each hand. Stray springs out of the way, narrowly avoiding a cut to his arm when the Talon throws one of his blades. It does manage to leave a sizeable incision in the leather, and it almost makes Dick want to kill him.

“I’m billing your ass for this suit,” Dick informs the man as he lands a roundhouse to his cheekbone, following it up with an uppercut. “They aren’t cheap. Beauty is expensive.”

The man hisses, an almost inhuman sound, and Dick flinches back.

“What the f—”

“ _KILL! KILL! KILL!”_

“I don’t—”

“ _One lives, one dies. You’re our little toys, so be good toys and KILL!”_

The Talon strikes again, this time near his throat, and he Dick manages to use the momentum to flip him, straddling his hips and holding the throwing knife to his throat.

“ _Gray Son…”_ the crowd murmurs again, and he shifts, fighting the Talon’s desperate thrashing, the assassin’s weak attempts to knock Stray off.

“Grandson,” the Talon that had captured him says, standing before him. “This is the one responsible for Haly’s death.”

“It was on _your_ orders!” He hisses, keeping the struggling pet-soldier pinned. “You killed him to draw me out!”

His ‘Grandfather’ grins.

“But _he_ is the weapon that spilled Haly’s blood, the one who killed the last remnants of your Circus family in front of your eyes.”

Dick’s eyes trace the curve of the man’s face – the square jaw with a jagged scar running just below his mouth, the dark red hair coated in blood, not all of which was his, and the lack of emotion in his eyes. Not a void, a warning,

Dick flexes his claws, trailing one finger along the curve of the man’s throat lightly, teasingly, almost, but there's nothing teasing in his expression, in the tilt of his head.

He thinks of Haly’s eyes as the dagger went straight through his jacket back, the _fear_ and desperation…

The Court’s orders, and this monster’s hand.

“Is he right?” He asks the Talon, gesturing to the asshole he is allegedly related to, “Did you kill Pop Haly?”

The Talon hesitates, but he nods.

“ _Kill, our Gray Son, kill. KILL!”_

He leaves the Talon crumpled on the floor, trying and failing to breathe, the Court’s cheers echoing as loud as the blood rushing to his head.

It’s hard to breathe when someone rips your throat out, after all.

When his grandfather reaches for his shoulder, he does the only thing he can think of, surrounded by the delighted screams of a crowd, and a blood-filled act he doesn’t _want_ to be the star of.

He runs.

*

The maze doesn’t have an escape, at least, not a discernable one.

Stray realizes this on Day Three, the same day he drinks from the water with no other choice, except dying of dehydration. The man he now knows as William Cobb has been chasing him ever since he ran from his kill. He’s always right on Stray’s heels until Dick slows, until Dick falls. He’d swoop in and cut Dick down with words and fists, before giving him another opening to run. An endless game of prey and predator and Dick has never been in the position of being prey.

Dick runs, because he has no other choice, and until now, he’s refused to drink from the marble fountain. It’s cold and heavenly as it flows down his throat. It tastes amazing, until the drugs he’d suspected it to be laced with make themselves known.

“ _You let us **die!** ” _his parents hiss, broken bodies rising from the perfect marble ground without issue and walking towards him. He backs right into Donna with a hiss of pain, disbelieving of the worn-down state his wonder twin is in.

“ _You failed,”_ she murmurs, soft, yet full of disappointment. Her hand tries to cover the blood leaking from her heart, but it pools in her cupped hands, staining the ground as she moves and shifts.

“Donna!”

He moves for her, and she steps back. He leaps, and she flips back. He can’t touch her, and she’s bleeding out in front of his _eyes_ …

“ _You really think I’d choose someone like **you**?”_ Jason laughs, a harsh sound when compared with his usual bellow that sent Dick’s heart off in a flutter. “ _I can have **anyone** , and what are you beyond a trained sex-toy? I don’t need to catch any **diseases** …”_

He’s behind Dick, close, but out of reach. Dick feels his heart break a little at Jason’s cruel denouncements, at the words his head knows and his heart fears.

“Jason, _please_ …”

“ _Kitten, you let me down. You **didn’t save me** …”_

Dick screams, but the scream seems to deteriorate as it echoes throughout the cold prison of blood and marble, breaking down into laughing fits as he cries, and when Cobb appears behind him, his laughter cuts off abruptly.

“Gray Son–"

Dick’s _furious_ , the whispers of his loved ones’ condemnation egging him on as he fights. He slashes his claws at Cobb’s throat, satisfied when the man clutches it, eyes wide with shock.

“ _Gray Son…”_

_~~Regenerate that, bastard~~ _ ~~.~~

“ _You failed…”_

_“You let us die!”_

_“You think I would choose **you**?”_

_“You didn’t save me…”_

Dick drops to his knees clutching his head, trying to drown out their voices, their _hatred_ …

“Knock him out,” a voice that sounds familiar says, weary and strained. “He nearly killed me.”

Dick’s world goes black as Selina’s dead eyes stare into his, a broken look crossing her face.

*

“You’re resilient, grandson, I will admit that,” William Cobb says as he comes to consciousness. “I think it will make only your ultimate submission that much sweeter. I have a great deal of tools at my disposable disposal – you _will_ break eventually.”

Dick’s mouth is gagged, some sort of metal contraption that tastes like sweat, and a little bit like blood. He’s exhaughsted and sore, half-formed corpses still visible in the corners of his eyes. The water had been laced with fear toxin, or the Court’s rendering of it, and he deosn’t doesn't have any antidotes with him. Fuck.

And sadly, he is _not_ a Kryptonian, so as he wills Cobb to die with his eyes, he does not catch fire. Sad, really. He should have heat vision.

“Have you ever killed, before that failure of a Talon?”

Dick shakes his head, picturing Zucco’s falling body, caught by Catwoman and thrown in jail. He’s out now, of course, but that’s the only other time he’s been tempted to kill.

“We’ll have to fix that. Take off those training wheels Wayne and Kyle gave you.”

Cobb’s eyes flash ominously.

“Who do you belong to?”

‘ _Not you.’_

Cobb smirks, reading the defiance in his eyes and grabbing one of his trusty knives.

“I was hoping you’d say that. Let’s teach you your place, yes?”

Jason stares at him coolly from behind Cobb’s shoulder, shaking his head in disappointment.

Dick doesn’t cry when Cobb’s knife carves into his back.

Dick doesn’t cry when Cobb’s hand forces him into the water, holding him until he stops struggling and thrashing.

Dick doesn’t even cry when Cobb lets some of the Court enter the solemn chamber, when Cobb lets them caress him, lets them _use_ him with a threat on Jason’s head if Dick doesn’t reciprocate, doesn’t _give in_.

Dick doesn’t sob, or shake. He doesn’t beg, and he barely screams.

“ _You’re a dirty **slut** , Grayson, and that’s all you’ll **ever be** ,” _Jason says.

A single tear slips down his cheek, and the next time Dick is asked who he belongs to, he doesn’t fight.

“The Court. I-I belong to the Court.”

*

The Court does not put trust in words, Dick finds, they lie enough to know the true value of words, pretty or ugly. They trust in actions, in _re_ actions, and as they understand his slight aversion to killing, they ease him into it with someone they _know_ he’ll kill.

“ _Zucco,”_ he hisses through clenched teeth, fists white around his throwing knives. His apparent acceptance of his new masters, and his status as the Gray Son of Gotham allotted him a costume upgrade – the Talon costume, very similar to his Stray outfit, only with knives and swords in place of his whip – along with things like food and non-drugged water.

The Grandmaster smiles indulgently, caressing his cheek the way one would a pet.

“This is your reward, Gray Son, and your test. Do not kill him, not immediately, you must make him _suffer_. The Court wills it so, and so it must be.”

Dick raises a brow, glancing at Cobb’s smug face.

Too bad the beheading hadn’t _stuck_.

“Yes Grandmaster,” He replies evenly, edging away from his touch.

That had been one of Cobb’s many lessons – hating touch, avoiding it at all costs. For a tactile person like himself, it’s hell, but he needs information more than he needs comfort. He needs the Court to _trust_ him more than he needs anything else. They’re a threat as long as they exist, a threat to everyone he loves. He won’t let anyone else die, not by their hands.

“Do you remember me?” He asks Zucco curiously, tilting his head.

The man looks like shit. Dark bags line his eyes, and he’s sweating like a pig.

“N-no, I—”

“You killed my parents,” Dick murmurs, tracing Zucco’s throat with a blade as he circles him. “In cold blood, because Pop Haly didn’t want to pay your _protection_ fee.”

His eyes widen as he takes Dick in, the blade on his throat, and recognition flashes in his eyes.

“You’re the brat.”

Dick grins at him, a bit bloodthirsty.

“You’re dead.”

Zucco’s pug-like face scrunches up pathetically, tears spilling from his eyes.

“Please, I have a fam—”

“I had a family _too_ , and _you killed them.”_

Dick makes a teasing incision, a shallow cut that bleeds enough to scare him, but not enough to kill him. The Grandmaster and his grandfather watch emotionlessly, unmoving as Zucco cries in pain.

“You ask me for mercy, but you didn’t grant _th_ _em_ mercy, did you?”

Zucco hisses as the blade digs into his shoulder painfully. Dick twists it, and he screams.

“ _Did you?!”_

Zucco curses, shaking his head.

Dick smirks coldly.

“That’s what I thought.”

(He’s made a full Talon the next day, starting with regular doses of electrum. But no matter how hard he scrubs, how hot he showers, he can’t help but feel the blood splattered on his face, the blood coating his hands as he ripped the man to shreds. He can’t regret it, it’s too late for regret, but he wonders if he should).

*

Dick kills more than just the nameless Talon and Zucco, and he doesn’t seem able to regret one of them. The Court knows how to make it justifiable, how to make it _worth it_ for him to obey.

His targets range from human traffickers to sex offenders who would go free if he didn’t kill them, and soon, the Court gives his leash a bit of pull. He’s the best, they tell him, since the first Talon.

He has an escape plan in mind (or ten), but at this point, he’s gathering intel. This Court…it’s built into the core of Gotham, an ancient organization with more pull than Bruce Wayne. He couldn’t leave unless he knew with absolute certainty that he could take them down, not when they had the reach they did, the _power_ they did. He wouldn’t put Selina or Alfred or Jason ( ~~or hell, even _Bruce_~~ ) in danger when he has a way to avoid that. What’s a little blood on his hands? It’s not like Selina is entirely _against_ killing, that is Bruce’s thing. And Stray has _never_ played by Bruce’s rules.

“Target?” He asks before Cobb can say anything. Cobb glares but complies, handing him a picture.

“Be careful with this one, he has—"

Dick rolls his eyes.

“Shut _up_ already, gramps. You’re not hot shit, and last I checked, the Court’s preference is _me_ right now, so kindly screw off.”

Cobb raises a brow.

“Should I recommend we have you reconditioned, grandson? You are rather… _insubordinate_.”

Dick shrugs, examining his nails. Donna is going to _kill_ him when she sees his cuticles. The Court didn’t seem to see the importance of nail care.

“When I kill you, do you want to be buried in a coffin or a fridge?”

Cobb’s eyes harden.

“I cannot die,” He answers, enough melodrama in his voice that Dick would bet money he’s tried to kill himself at _least_ once. He has that 18th century Victorian London feel to him – in other words, the nice-guys in petticoats who try and fuck their underage cousins while bemoaning the point of human existence.

Dick looks up from his messy cuticles to meet Cobb’s eyes.

“Let me rephrase that. When I _fucking_ kill you, do you want a fridge or a regular coffin? I have a flexible budget. I could even get one of those fancy fridges with the TV built-in.”

Cobb sneers at his grandson.

“If I were to die, it would not be by your arrogant, thieving hands, Gray Son. And I would want to be cremated if anything.”

Stray smirks.

“Noted.”

He's going to mount the bastard’s head on a pike and burn his body to ashes. He swears it. It had taken weeks to gain the favor of the Court, along with convincing them he was truly loyal. Cobb had yet to reveal that Dick had resisted brainwashing, mainly because he found Dick amusing as well as aggravating. He found little entertainment in this palace of marble, so he'd take it where he could get it. Not that it made him any more tolerable; Cobb had tortured him for days on end, and without the serum, he was still mortal, vulnerable to Cobb’s whims.

Sometimes he’d cut Dick open until he passed out, but stop before he died.

Sometimes he’d invite owls to play with him, however they chose to at that moment.

Sometimes he’d lock Dick in the maze for days with nothing other than the drugged water laced with fear toxin and whatever victims the Court decided he needed to _hurt_.

He doesn’t care how long it'll take.

He's going to kill his grandfather if it’s the _last thing he does_.

And as he glances at the photo, as he finds Bruce Wayne’s photograph staring back up at him, he doesn’t frown like he knows Cobb expects him. He grins.

“Bye gramps, I have a billionaire to kill.”

Fingers crossed Selina doesn’t kill him for making her worry, and that she stops Donna, Roy, and Wally from killing him. And Alfred, but he has a feeling that if Alfred truly tries, he’ll succeed.

With how happy Dick is to leave this godforsaken tomb of white, he’ll let him.

*

“Batman,” Stray grunts in a decent imitation of the Bat-voice, if he does say so himself, “the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die.”

Bruce, Alfred, and Jason all turn to him, weapons in hand ( _Alfred has a **shotgun** , where did he pull that from?!_), and he raises his hands in peace, pulling off his hood thing that the Court demanded he wear. It’s a crime to hide a face like his anyways, even if the stupid electrum made him a bit paler than normal.

“Good thing I don’t give a shit what those bird fuckers want.”

Alfred drops the silver serving tray and shotgun on the ground with an “ _Oh my_ ,” at his words. Jason and Bruce are both silent, staring at him. He waves, chuckling nervously.

“Uh, hi? I’m not dead? I just got kidnapped by the Court of Furries for a bit?”

And oh, that was _not_ shock but anger in Jason’s eyes, and when he tackles Dick to the ground, he expects a fist. He gets a hug instead, something _he_ normally initiates. He hugs Jason back tightly, unwilling to admit how much he’d missed him.

“I’m safe, Little Wing,” he murmurs reassuringly.

“ _Ass,”_ Jason breathes into his shoulder, sounding choked up. Dick doesn’t call him on it.

“Ahem,” Alfred clears his throat, eyeing where Jason straddled Dick meaningfully. Dick untangles himself from Jason, both of them blushing lightly.

“It is good to see you, Master Dick. Miss Kyle has been frantic, and dare I say we’ve _all_ quite missed you.”

Dick hugs Alfred just as tight as he’d hugged Jason. Alfred doesn’t entirely return it, but he doesn’t push him away, and Dick will take what he can get.

By the time Dick’s ready to talk, Alfred’s prepared tea and a sandwich tray for Dick. Dick nibbles on one absentmindedly as Bruce interrogates him.

“Where is the Court located?”

“Underground, _way_ underground, near downtown Gotham, I think? It’s like a city of marble running under all of Gotham. I know where several entrances are if you can give me a map.”

Bruce does him one better, typing rapidly on his computer and showing Dick a 3D map of Gotham City. Dick grins.

“Mom and I need one of these,” He says, thinking of how much easier heists would be to plan with this kind of map, but Bruce glares, so he forces himself to focus.

“There, there, there, and there,” He points towards the sewer entrances and basement entrances he knows of from Cobb. Most are linked to some big corporation, or near one, probably because the Owls owned them.

Bruce frowns, marking them on his map.

“Defenses?”

Dick shakes his head.

“They’ve gotten pretty cocky in their secrecy, and entirely rely on the Talons they have at their disposal, along with William Cobb, a descendant of mine.”

“Wait, wait, _wait_ ,” Jason says, making a timeout motion with his hands. “ _You_ are related to these people? The rich ass fuckers – sorry Al – _jerks_ that have been orchestrating Gotham? Putting hits on people?”

_“You really think I’d choose someone like **you**?”_ Jason had laughed. “ _I can have **anyone** , and what are you beyond a trained sex-toy? I don’t need to catch any **diseases** …”_

Dick’s eyes turn cold, and the room becomes noticeably tense.

“No, I’m related to their _slaves_. If that’s an issue, I’ll happily _leave_.”

Jason shuts up when Dick turns his back to him, Bruce’s gaze heavy on both of them.

“Explain.”

Dick snorts.

“What’s there to explain? My entire childhood is apparently a big lie, my family is descended from a branch of immortal assassins that answers to every rich person in Gotham, and I’ve spent the last few weeks being tortured just to be their bitch. So _forgive me_ if I’m cranky. I’ve killed, and I don’t fucking regret it. I have their serum in my veins, and after this, you can cut ties with me if you want to, but we _need_ to take them down. Good?”

“Dick, wait—” Jason reaches for him, and Dick pulls just out of reach.

Jason looks crestfallen.

“I didn’t mean it like it sounded, I—"

“Whatever Jason. It doesn’t matter. B, call in the troops. We’re going to need a small army to take them out.”

Dick manages to dodge all attempts at broaching the subject (by Bruce and Alfred, Jason simply stares at him) until Selina arrives with the Sirens, giving Dick a shield of overprotective moms.

“I was so _worried_ ,” she murmurs into his hair, holding him tight enough to nearly hurt.

( _ ~~Not much hurts anymore, with the electrum in his veins, the~~_ _ ~~newfound strength, and resiliency. He isn’t invulnerable, not by a longshot, but he’s more durable than even Bruce now~~_ )

She smells like vanilla and sugar, like _home_ … “I thought you were killed, or worse… We’re going to get those _bastards and_ make them pay, I promise my kitten. I _promise_.”

Ivy and Harley hug him too, silent as they take him in.

“I missed you, _all_ of you,” He says. And he can almost pretend that he isn’t staring at Jason out of the corner of his eye when his family clutches him, when Alfred refills his tea and Bruce begins strategizing and picking his brain.

He can almost pretend that Crane’s goddamn poison isn’t still affecting him, that he hadn’t taken it out on Jason.

He can pretend, so he does.

~~(Doesn’t make it~~ ~~any more true)~~

*

Dick and Bruce’s plan proceeds beautifully. They’ve managed to coordinate the Sirens, Cardinal, and some of the stealthier heroes Bruce allied himself with at different entrances. On Dick’s orders, they incapacitate the few guards the Court has without issue, proceeding towards the atrium without issue.

“Stray to Cardinal, what’s your status?” Jason hums, and he can hear Dinah Lance aka Black Canary breathe a sigh next to him.

“We’re in position, Grandmaster and Cobb, from what you’ve described are in-sight, along with the Owls. Every seat is full.”

“Good, Mom? Harls? Ivy?”

“We’re ready kitten, waiting on your orders.”

“Bellona? RA? GA?”

“We’re positioned at the atrium’s main exit,” Roy answers, tapping his foot impatiently. “Make sure to send some of these fuckers our way.”

Dick grins.

“Over. Bats?”

Bruce grunts in affirmation next to him.

“Okay. Owls are mostly rich bastards that wouldn’t know how to fight if their life depended on it, so no issue should come from them. Leader of the furry guard might interfere, but he’ll more likely than not go for me. Grandmaster is more of a wild card, so I’m going for him. The goal is to incapacitate as many as possible before the other Talons are activated. If they are, their only weakness is the cold, or the serum spray Bats gave you beforehand.”

Jason grumbles something Dick can’t quite hear, not that he really wants to. He’s still pissed, and more than a little hurt. Neither of which he’ll admit, of course.

“What was that, _Cardinal_?”

“I _said_ , why are you taking on the only two members of the Court who pose an _actual_ threat? Shouldn’t you have more back-up?”

Dick snorts.

“More back-up than his broodiness? I don’t need to be slowed down by unnecessary _support_.”

“Forget I _asked_ ,” Jason spits, and Dick sometimes forgets how Jay’s temper runs just as hot as his own, even if he _is_ a judgmental asshole.

“ _Already have_.”

He turns off his comm before Roy can comment on it, knowing he’ll snap if he hears _one_ joke or comment on it. His control is a thin enough rope to walk with the hellish months he’s spent at the Court. He doesn’t need any additional weight.

“Are you prepared for this, Stray?” Batman asks, concern evident in tone if not body-language. Dick’s lip curls.

“I’m more than ready. Leave my grandfather and the Grandmaster to me.”

There’s a warning in his words he knows Bruce reads, even if he doesn’t know how to respond to it ( _emotionally incompetent moron_ ), but Dick knows him well enough to know Bruce can’t stop him. Bruce knows this too, so he frowns and signals Stray to move.

‘ _Showtime,’_ he thinks with a nasty grin, claws extended, and blades strapped tight around his thighs. He’d modified his suit to blend the elegance of Stray with the lethality of Talon. It makes him feel… _dangerous_ , like a living weapon even without his flirting and seducing. It’s a lot of power, a _different_ kind of power.

“Gray Son,” the Grandmaster greets pleasantly, motioning for Dick to kneel at his feet. “Was your mission— _what are you wearing?!_ ”

Dick discreetly signals for Bruce to hold back along with the others, pulling his goggles up to wink at the asshole. Cobb straightens, undisguised curiosity obvious in his cold eyes.

“Got a wardrobe upgrade, y’know.”

He pauses, frowning at the man’s outfit.

“Or maybe you _don’t_. I can’t see _that_ monstrosity as anything anyone would ever consider fashionable.”

The Owls chitter nervously, murmuring amongst themselves.

“I _told_ you to kill Bruce Wayne,” the Grandmaster says, “Did you?”

Dick raises a brow, motioning for everyone to get in position behind his back.

“Listen here you _raggedy-ass fashion trauma_. If I were to ever kill Bruce Wayne – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve _definitely_ thought about it – it would be for _me_ or my _mother_ because _god forbid_ that man becomes my adoptive stepfather, or whatever. I’m not killing that asshole because YOU tell me to, you in your tombstone of marble, so disconnected from the world that you are blind enough to mistake _complacency_ for _devotion_.”

Dick laughs, stepping closer.

“And while we’re talking about devotion, if you think anyone is gonna call you _master_ of anything besides bad choices in _that_ outfit you’re crazier than the Joker. A fucking white suit doesn’t match your ugly cape. Like, what the fuck is the point of your outfit? Are you a Death Eater? No, you’re not. You’re just another asshat incapable of matching fabrics.”

He hears Roy cough over the line, suppressing a chuckle.

“ _On my signal_ ,” he murmurs.

“Grandson—”

“Oh _shut it, William_ ,” Dick interjects, “Your fashion choices are no better. The 19th century called, they want your hairstyle back.”

“ _Three_ ,” he whispers, and he doesn’t have to look to know Bruce is leaning down, perched above them.

“Gray Son,” Grandmaster warns, “You don’t want to do this.”

“ _Two_.”

“Our reach spreads across the entirety of Gotham, in every major business, every politician, every criminal. We can hurt you, and perhaps physical pain doesn’t sway you, but we can bring you Jason Todd’s head on a pike.”

Dick doesn’t say one, he hears a sharp intake of breath, and he doesn’t know if it’s _him_ or someone else.

“ _Has he been threatening me?!”_ Jason demands, “ _Is that why you stayed?!”_

Dick ignores him, eyes flashing dangerously.

“ _What_ did you say?”

The Grandmaster seems taken aback, almost. He covers it up with his overconfidence and mask of indifference.

“We can have Jason Todd killed within the hour, should you not halt your rebellion. For one so… _independent_ you have far too many weaknesses, too many _connections_. The Court knows all, Gray Son. Who you love, who you hate, who you’d die to save… Donna Troy, Wallace West, Roy Harper, Caitlin Snow, Tara Markov, Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley, and Selina Kyle…not to mention Komand’r, and yes, we know of her as well, but you know who we’ll kill first, whose throat I’ll slit as you sit bound and helpless. The _street rat_ …”

“ _Change of plans, everyone,”_ He hisses, slamming his whip against the cold marble in warning. “ _They’re not leaving here alive.”_

He smashes his comm under his foot, leaping at the Grandmaster with his claws outstretched. There’s one scream, followed by another, and he knows everyone has joined. The Grandmaster dances out of his path, evading his whip’s furious strikes.

“Dick!”

He ignores Jason’s shout, closing in on the Grandmaster with the single-minded focus he’d tortured Zucco with, eyes settling into the golden shade they did when he killed, when he was angry enough to forget everything outside of the bloodlust, the _rage_.

It’s when he gets his claws around the Grandmaster’s throat that Cobb intervenes, or tries to, but Dick pulls out the spray Bruce had given him and has him down in less than a minute. The Grandmaster looks at his bodyguard in shock, then back at Dick. He shivers.

“Gray Son—”

Dick slits his throat with three fingers, a razor-sharp caress spilling dark red across the marble-white _perfection_ of the asshole’s throne. Dick stares at Cobb’s frozen form, his eyes still tracking his grandson’s movements wearily.

“I said I’d kill you,” He says, voice barely above a whisper. “I told you I would, and you said you wanted to be cremated.”

Cobb doesn’t scream as his head comes off, spraying gold on the steps to the throne. He doesn’t even scream when Dick sets fire to his corpse with a grin, leaping after the fleeing Owls with a savage joy.

He just stares as he burns, numb, and perhaps a little relieved that there’s an end to his servitude.

“Dick!” Jason tries again, but Stray doesn’t see Jason, he sees the ghosts from the drugged water, the corpses looking at him with dead-eyes and the Owls laughing as they…

As _they_ …

( _Hands on his flesh, kneading and bruising and caressing, and the ever-present “Cooperate, or the next head the Court will have will be the street rat’s…”_ )

When Cardinal steps in front of Stray, taking in the blood-soaked claws and face painted gold and red with the spray of his victims, he doesn’t move. In Stray’s haze, he sees only an enemy that needs to be taken down, an enemy defending his _masters_ …

He doesn’t come to when Jason murmurs his name, shaking his shoulders.

He doesn’t come to when Jason fights back, dodging Stray’s blows with growing fatigue.

He doesn’t come to until Jason’s blood colors his claws, until Jason’s eyes stare up at his, and he looks afraid.

_Afraid of Dick…_

They stare at each other, blue locked onto gold, Dick’s claws embedded deep in Jason’s skin. Jason’s breathing is shallow, and Stray is close enough to feel it on his skin.

“What… what did _I_ —”

Jason flinches.

Those that escape Stray survive, those that don’t?

(The marble castle turned into a marble tombstone tainted with red, and when Batman makes eye contact with him, he runs until he can’t see the terror in Jason’s eyes as he looks at Dick)

*

“You’re leaving,” Bruce notes, arms crossed in the doorway of his safehouse, one of the few Dick doesn’t share with Selina. Stray shoves past him, rolling his eyes.

“World’s _Greatest_ , right?” He replies sarcastically, shoving everything in sight into a large duffle bag. “I’m not safe, _Detective_ , so I need to leave.”

“Kitten…”

Selina looks heartbroken, steps soft and hesitant as she comes into view. Dick whirls on Bruce furiously.

“ _Why_ did you bring her with you?!”

Bruce pulls down his cowl.

“You don’t exactly listen to me, Dick. I figured you might listen to Selina more.”

“Oh yeah, I’m _sure_. I murdered a bunch of rich bastards in front of you before attacking your son and you’re here to _talk_. You telling me Mom’s not going to be convincing me to turn myself in?”

Selina scoffs.

“Fuck that. You’re _my_ kid, Bruce would have to go through me. He told me where you were so I could convince you to stay.”

“ _Why?!”_ He demands, voice choked full of emotion. “I’m a _monster_! They made me a _monster_! Do you know what _I’ve_ done, what _they’ve_ done?! I _killed_ , and I _hurt_ … I hurt _Jason_ …”

Selina pulls him into a fierce hug, tucking her head neatly in the crook of his neck. It’s weird with him being taller than her—he’s used to being _shorter_ – but it’s… it’s something he’s missed when blood became the only warmth he felt, and that had been undercut with guilt.

“You will _never_ be a monster, my little bird. _Never_. I don’t care who you’ve killed or you haven’t. I don’t care what you’ve done, you’re _my_ kitten, _my_ Stray, and I will _never_ give up on you.”

“But I—”

Bruce steps forward, silencing Dick’s words with a look.

“I don’t approve of killing, that’s true. You’ve always known that, but… I understand the urge, I know why others do it, even if I myself can’t. It’s a line I can’t cross because it would be too easy to justify it, time and time again. I have to be better, because _Gotham_ needs me to be better, even if I want to so much sometimes that I _dream_ of it. I can’t… _condone_ it, but I can understand it, can empathize with it. Alfred views you as family, and I do too. You mean a lot to us, _all_ of us, and I’m not going to condemn you for surviving the only way you could. I—"  
  


“Stop,” Dick whines, “You look constipated, I get the gist. Don’t want to put all your emotions in one basket.”

Dick steps out of Selina’s embrace, closer to Bruce.

“Is…” Dick bites his lip. “Is Jay okay?”

Bruce smiles, setting a heavy hand on Stray’s shoulder.

“He’s alright. Alfred sewed him up, and he’s worried about you.”

“He shouldn’t be,” Stray murmurs looking down. “He shouldn’t worry at all.”

“Kitten, I beg to disagree. You’re trying to leave Gotham and we haven’t seen you for _months_. We’ve all been running ourselves ragged trying to find you, and poor Cardinal’s been an angry stressed mess.”

Dick shrugs Bruce off, lifting his duffle bag from where he’d dropped it.

“All the more reason to leave. I’m not in control, hell, I’m a _liability_. I don’t know how to control myself, and I can’t risk hurting you, Mom.”

_Hurting him._

Bruce sighs, looking at Selina.

“Bruce, _no_.”

“It’s a good option,” Batman counters, ignoring Stray’s curious gaze. “I trained there.”

“And _you_ almost _died_ how many times?!”

“Are you saying Dick isn’t capable?”

“Are you saying he’s going to learn to keep his bloodlust in check with a bunch of _assassins?_!”

“Assassins?” Dick asks, brow furrowed. “What?”

Bruce stares at Selina for a second, seeming to have a mental argument, before Selina looks away.

“Tell him. It’s his choice.”

“Dick, I trained with the League of Assassins before becoming Batman. They helped me learn… _control_. Complete control of mind and body during my time there. I… I can send you to them, to Ra’s, and they will train you. It will be hard, and I have no clue how long you will need to stay there, but it’s an option. One you must be committed to if you choose it.”

Dick looks at his claws, still coated in Jason’s dried blood, picturing the fear in his Cardinal’s eyes as Dick nearly killed him.

He can’t lose control again.

“I’ll do it.”

(“ _Where’s Dick?”_ _Jason would later ask, and Alfred would be the only one willing to tell him that Dick was gone again, this time of his own free will, and no one knew when he would return_. _Because Dick hadn’t stopped to say goodbye to anyone’s knowledge, only leaving a brush of lips against Jason’s cheek as a parting, not waiting for the teen to wake_ )

*

“I think you’re my best friend,” Cardinal says out of nowhere, legs swinging off the top of Wayne Tower next to Stray. It’s a rare night where Selina, Bruce, the Titans, and the Vixens are all in their various hidey-holes, affording Dick and Jason some alone time, which is rare in costume.

Stray falls backward onto the asphalt roof, blushing slightly.

“What?”

“You’re my best friend,” Jason repeats, smirking slightly now. “You know me best, and I just wanted to tell you that.”

Stray feels sweaty in his leather suit, and for a moment, he wishes his suit was more breezy, perhaps with a high collar and low neckline instead of painted on leather…

“Are you panicking? Cause you seem really red.”

That smug _bastard_ …

“I’m not panicking!” Dick squeaks, clasping his hands over his mouth in horror. His face won’t calm down, why won’t the ground just _swallow him whole_ ….

“I’m fine, I’m good. I’m hot as ice, no, I meant _cold_ , cold as ice! Cool as a cucumber, or Mr. Freeze even—”

“Dick,” Jason cuts in, smiling stupidly like the _ass_ he is, “You’re rambling.”

“I—” Dick starts, before quitting as a reply half-forms in his brain, “Yeah, you caught me.”

Jason helps him up, and because Stray’s life is apparently a fucking _rom-com_ he ends up way closer to Jason than he should be, especially with the fact that his stupid _skin_ refuses to get the _goddamn cooldown messages_.

“Literally _and_ metaphorically,” Cardinal says, and Stray just pouts, leaning in to his warmth way more than he should be.

“You…you’re my…” Dick groans, hiding his face in Jason’s shoulder. “You’remybestfriendtoo, okay?”

“What?”

“You. Are. My. Best. Friend. Too. Except for maybe Donna, cause she’d actually kill you if she thought you were taking her place, and Wally and Roy are also pretty fierce competition—”

“Di—”

“And I’m rambling again. Please, kill me now.”

Jason pushes Dick back enough so their eyes meet. They’re only a year and a bit apart, Dick seventeen and Jason sixteen, but Jason’s already growing taller than Dick, to his _extreme_ displeasure. The heels keep them at a similar height, but without heels Dick is _short_.

Stray’s breath hitches when Jason cups his cheek, warmth blooming wherever Jason touches.

“Pretty Bird, you have no reason to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not!”

Jason just grins, pushing their foreheads together.

“I mean it. You know you’re important to me.”

Dick smiles, wishing he had that little bit of courage to close the distance between them, to make something out of all these feelings and wishes and desires. He's brave in many ways, but with this... He's a coward.

“I mean it too.”

(Maybe Donna had been a little _too_ on the mark, insightful traitor)

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of curiosity, what is your favorite change to a specific character? Or in general? How're you feeling about the Vixens? Inquiring minds (aka me) want to know :)


End file.
